


Uninvited But Deeply Craved

by SillyBlue



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Castiel, Castiel and Jimmy Novak Are Twins, Crossdressing, Feminization, Gender Identity, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Castiel, Top Dean, gender fluidity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-29
Updated: 2013-10-29
Packaged: 2017-12-30 19:10:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 74,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1022362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SillyBlue/pseuds/SillyBlue
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At 35 Castiel Novak is a successful professor, firmly established both in the academic world and a sought after voice in many recent gender debates. After a failed marriage he spent almost 15 years striving to get somewhere in life and there simply had never been time or an interest for romance. Not having a partner wasn’t something that ever bothered Castiel, but he can no longer shake the feeling of something lacking in his life. He decides that maybe it is time to have a child of his own. What he doesn’t want though is the hassle of a relationship. Egged on by his mischievous cousin he publishes a personal ad in a newspaper, looking for a young man to help him out. </p>
<p>Dean, almost 30, stumbles over the announcement right after he ran away from his last relationship. He is in dire need of money to set up his own business and he decides to go with it. A couple of thousand dollars for knocking up some quirky professor seems easy enough. Of course it isn’t. </p>
<p>Dealing with his supernatural, trouble-making clients and the ridiculous coffee shop his vampire room-mate wants to turn part of Dean’s house into seems far easier than deciding just what he and Castiel are supposed to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Full Warnings: Mpreg, cross-dressing, feminization, slight body alteration, some instances of academic discussion of gender/ sex, top!Dean, bottom!Cas, rated M/ NC-17 for sexual content. AU with Supernatural elements (monsters and demons exist, angels don’t)
> 
> Mentions past Dean/Lisa and past Chuck/Castiel
> 
>  
> 
> This story was written for the DeanCas Big Bang 2013!
> 
> The wonderful art contained in this story was made by purplesummer91, you can find her at purplesummer91.tumblr.com! I’m so happy we got to work together, you’re fantastic! 
> 
> A great thanks to my beta, Esmerod, for taking on the big task of editing even though the subject isn’t really her cup of tea! You made this romantic comedy work!

 

 

****

**PART ONE**

\--

He wasn’t sure what he had expected. It had been a long time since he’d last dragged himself into a diner after hours of restless tossing and turning inside the small space of his car. He could almost still taste the rich coffee that Lisa used to brew. Here the dark liquid left a bitter aftertaste and a mild burn in his mouth.  He wiped his lips, stifling a sigh with the back of his hand and gazed about. His phone was lying upside down on the clean, wooden table. Sam had called him at least a dozen times and his brother’s text messages had gone from a mildly concerned “what happened?” to an annoyed “Dean pick up your damn phone” all in capital letters within the last couple of hours. Dean hadn’t felt like picking up his phone after he had tossed his duffel into his car’s trunk and he didn’t think that picking up the phone was something he felt like doing now. He had slept badly, his back was aching and he was sitting in a random diner in Louisiana. _Louisiana_!! What was he supposed to say? Sorry, Sam, I freaked out and am now 900 miles away from what used to be home. And I guess I’ll be living in the car for a couple of weeks? He thought it best to let Sam stew a bit; it wasn’t like he could help him. 

This wasn’t the first time he had left his life behind, crashed in his car and hoped that cheap diner coffee would somehow hold the answer to all his problems. But the diner he had stumbled upon was surprisingly clean and almost cozy. And despite the coffee being bitter to swallow it was actually good. Better than expected. Maybe he’d be able to face the day after all.

“Rough night, eh?” He looked up, seeing the guy that had been behind the counter when he entered eying him with a mix of amusement and compassion in his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he muttered, rubbing his hand over his forehead. When had he last showered? When Dean looked up again the guy was still watching him with a raised eyebrow and Dean huffed.

“Look, man… I’m beat. I appreciate you trying to cheer me up, but I’ll prefer to wallow in my self-pity with just a cup of coffee.” The bartender chuckled at that and poured new coffee into his mug.

“That’s okay, buddy. I thought you needed some kind of moral support. But you can have coffee too.” He winked at him, his blue eyes full of mirth, then he left to attend to another customer. Dean watched the guy, Benny his nametag had read, pat the other patron on the back, before he went into the kitchen. Dean looked up at the black board next to the kitchen entry, where the menu was written in colored chalk. He gave a start when the phone vibrated and Dean slammed his hand onto it, turning it around. As expected it was Sam again and barely a moment after the vibrations stopped, the screen lit up with a message.

 _“Ben told me Lisa kicked you out. Where are you?”_ Dean felt like ignoring that too, but Sam apparently meant business because another text came in. _“Don’t make me tell Mom.”_

“Oh, you fucker. You wouldn’t-“ Dean hissed, but then he groaned and sent him his location, hoping that this would at least satisfy his brother for a moment.

 _“Do you have work there?”_ Dean decided that telling Sam where he was had to be enough conversation for the moment and he shoved the phone into his pocket, determined to ignore him for at least as long as it took for Dean to make up his mind.

He eventually had to return to his office, but nothing actually kept him there now and it wasn’t like Cicero had much work to offer for him. Maybe, Dean mused dejectedly, this was the moment to start again. _Another_ new start.

Dean rubbed his forehead, seeing a distorted reflection of his face on the surface of his coffee. He needed money to set up a new place. The old office had only been a dingy backroom of a bar and had therefore both been affordable and unassuming enough to benefit his clientele, but this time he’d have to do it right. A real office. One that didn’t have stains and moss growing on the windowsill and a radiator that wasn’t all noise and no heat. One that was big enough to drag a couch into it where he could sleep on if he really had to.

Dean’s frantic thinking of how he could get money that didn’t end in hustling or asking a lady to pay for his skills in bed got interrupted by a customer leaving with loud calls to Benny. Dean watched him clear the recently vacated table.

“Hey,” he said and Benny looked up. Dean motioned towards the newspaper Benny was in the process of cleaning away. “Could I have a look at that?” Benny blinked at him, but then he grinned and tossed the newspaper over.

“Try page 14. Some exciting things in it today,” Benny said gleefully and when Dean just looked at him in confusion Benny motioned towards the menu. “How about some breakfast?”

“Uh… Yeah. Of course,” Dean said, opening the paper, smoothing it down on page 14. “Just whatever you can recommend.” He barely heard Benny agree, already scanning the announcements and job offers.

He was past ads of people looking for nannies and people looking for sex partners, when he came upon _it_. The announcement that probably had Benny shoot him that cocky grin when he came back with a plate of french toast with a number of roasted vegetables and a nice helping of bacon on the side.

“Unconventional, right?” he asked and Dean was sure that he wasn’t talking about the mouth-watering food, but the ad Dean was already ripping out of the paper. Benny grinned at him when Dean only managed a half-hearted, but slightly embarrassed shrug. “Food’s on me. Good luck, brother.”

“Dean,” he said and Benny turned around again. “The name’s Dean. Dean Winchester.” Benny grinned and grabbed the hand Dean extended towards him. “And thanks.”

“I know that people might need a little helping hand from time to time,” he said, strengthening his grip of Dean’s hand a bit before he let him go. Dean nodded and watched him go, then he turned to look at his hand.

“Hah…” he muttered to himself, then he started eating, the personal ad of a certain Professor E.C. Novak lying next to his elbow and thoughts circling around what he could do with 8000 dollars.

\--

“What’s it with you professors and time management issues?” The corridors were almost empty, save for a few students loitering about, wasting their precious time between one lecture and the next. The semester had recently reached its half-way mark and while that left students with lots of time not to think about assessments and dead-lines, Castiel had enough to worry about.

Not making it to the lunch dates with Gabriel wasn’t all that high on his list of nuisances, but not getting out of a meeting in time certainly was among the things that left him irritable.

“Oh, come on. Get rid of that scowl, you’re scaring the first semesters,” Gabriel joked, which Castiel considered to be an unsuccessful jest because he was as popular with the first semesters as he was with the doctorate students. The shorter of the two, who was still chuckling to himself, led the way to whatever location he had chosen for today’s lunch. Castiel shot him a look when Gabriel smirked at him. “So, what’s up? Did they cut your research funds or something?” They stepped out of the building complex that housed the library and some conference rooms. It was bright but chilly outside and Castiel pulled on his trench coat.

“Quite the contrary actually,” Castiel said with a snort and followed Gabriel to the diner across the street.  Even though it was lunch time, students weren’t usually seen here. Maybe it was the not so charming retro look, or how the plastic of the oddly comfortable benches stank. Whatever the cause, Castiel was glad that he could enjoy lunch (which was good here, especially the breakfast, but the coffee was awful) without running into one of his students. “They want me to hold a lecture course on early modern sexuality and gender roles,” Castiel explained, sitting down with a huff, rearranging the trench coat around himself. “Again,” he added gruffly before Gabriel could do more than shrug. Gabriel resorted to a low chuckle, shaking his head at Castiel’s exasperation. Castiel grabbed a menu. “It’s like since the State banned forced operation of infants going out of the sex binary everyone suddenly thinks I’m the expert on this topic.” He trailed his finger down the menu, avoiding a stain of an undefined substance that obscured half of the description of what Castiel guessed to be a salad menu. “They might as well make a new chair for me,” he muttered. Gabriel’s reply, which judging by the look on his face wasn’t going to be all that compassionate, was cut short by the arrival of their waitress.

“Look,” he said, once their orders had been placed, putting both of his elbows on the table and pointed at Castiel with his hands. “I don’t know what you’re even complaining about. It’s only obvious that people would turn to you. You’re someone in your academic field and now you’re just even more of a jewel in the crown of the university. I don’t know, Cas, I’d say take the money and tell them some things about witch hunts.” Gabriel leant back in his seat. “Students like that kind of gory stuff.” Castiel didn’t even dignify that remark with a roll of his eyes. “Cas,” he continued, more serious now. “Why does this bug you?”

 “I’m not really angry,” Castiel admitted, clasping his hands on top of the table, absent-mindedly rubbing his left ring finger. “I do understand why they’d turn to me. I haven’t exactly complained before…” Their food arrived and the two men drifted off onto different topics while they ate and Castiel was glad for the distraction even though it meant having to hear Gabriel boast about his wild sex life again.

“I had a student coming up to me earlier today,” Castiel said eventually, still pushing some peas around his plate, while Gabriel was already studying the dessert menu. “She wants to write on how men with the ability to carry children have to refuse being shoved into the role of a mother just to receive legitimization about their in-between status.”

“Nothing new,” Gabriel commented, only half listening, “I’d rather hear more on the women with the ability to produce spunk. It’s hot in pornos.” He was wise enough to withdraw his legs as Castiel did attempt to kick him with his fancy shoes. The teasing was too normal between them though for Castiel to stop his train of thought in order to reprimand him.

“And she gushed about how proud she was of me to constantly resist pressure. That she was proud that I had risen to such an influential position even though I was constantly making myself heard about who I was and how I thought the world should change to accommodate me and others like me.”

“Aw, sweet. A fangirl,” Gabriel said, placing both palms on the table, drumming an irregular rhythm. “And it’s true. Time and time again you refused when people suggested for you to bear children just because you can. As you always said, and I quote your exact wording because you’ve told us at every family gathering: _I don’t need motherhood to validate me. My actions determine who I am, not my womb_.”

“Yes…,” Castiel said slowly and Gabriel raised an eyebrow, his task of getting their waitress’ attention currently forgotten. Castiel looked at him, blue eyes widened as he lifted his eyebrows. “And I want a baby.” Gabriel opened his mouth, but only a low whine came out as he tried to come up with something to say.

“You _what_?”

“I want a baby,” Castiel repeated, but even though his voice was firm, he had decidedly lowered his volume. Castiel’s deep dark secret, breathed out over the leftovers of cheap lunch. “I want to be a mother.”

“Are you serious? Because your jokes are as bad as Raphael’s,” Gabriel said, but the blush that crept onto Castiel’s cheeks made Gabriel bark out a laugh. “You’re actually serious!” He clapped his hands and Castiel glared at him for the attention it had drawn to them. Unconcerned about their potential audience Gabriel pulled his mouth into a mischievous smirk. “Emmanuel, Emmanuel. You surprise me.”

“Don’t-“ Castiel started, but then he groaned and shook his head. “Look. I’ve already made up my mind, I just wanted to… I don’t know…”

“Get rid of your guilty conscience?” Castiel cast his eyes down, pulling his shoulders up into an awkward shrug. Gabriel did attempt to shake off the teasing tone to his voice. “How many years has it been, Cas? 15? For almost 15 years you’ve been certain that there will be no baby coming out of you, of course people are going to wonder about that. Heck, even I wonder about that,” Gabriel said and eyed Castiel up and down. “Is there anyone I don’t know about?”

“I doubt this. You know more about what I’m up to than I do,” Castiel replied glumly and Gabriel let himself fall back against the backrest of his seat, crossing his arms.

“That’s because you’re never on Facebook. Heck, I can’t even get you to come online on MSN. Sometimes I feel like I need to paint a message on a rock somewhere in Africa for you to actually get back to me,” he complained.

“You’re exaggerating. I diligently reply to both my mail and phone calls,” Castiel protested, making Gabriel rub his forehead with a deep sigh. “We’ve had this conversation, can we please get back on topic?”

“The topic of you wanting a bun in the oven. Yes, I’m very eager to hear about that,” Gabriel said, relishing in the way Castiel tried to suppress the growing embarrassment. When Castiel didn’t say anything for a while, Gabriel’s eyebrows lowered. “You don’t think about going back-“

“No.” Castiel replied promptly and shook his head. “I decided not to get myself into the mess of a relationship again and I’m still true to that decision.” Gabriel let his head fall backwards, against the top of the back rest.

“Why are you having this conversation with _me_?”

“Because you once told me that I’m always welcome to tell you the,” Castiel lifted his hands to make air quotes, “embarrassing things about my life.” Gabriel lifted his head to glance at Castiel.

“I told you that when you were a horny teenager,” he argued. “And that talk about you sticking your fingers into your ass was embarrassing enough to last me a life time.” Castiel just sent him a deadpan look and Gabriel heaved another sigh. “Okay fine. Sorry. You’re serious about this and I’ll try to be helpful.”

“Thank you,” Castiel said with a small, relieved sigh, but the redness on his cheeks remained.

“So,” Gabriel started, elbows on the table and chin resting in one palm. “I’m not gonna ask about why you suddenly feel the biological clock ticking,” he said and Castiel glowered at him in silence, “but I do want to know what you intend to do about it? Will you go to a sperm bank?” Castiel shook his head. “Yeah, I didn’t think you would…”

“I want to know who the father is. I want to see him and meet him,” Castiel explained after a moment had passed and Gabriel lifted both eyebrows minutely. He wasn’t really surprised.

“No chick?” Castiel squirmed around a bit, “so you’re leaving the option of sex open?”

“Sexual intercourse would be preferable for the conception of my child,” Castiel admitted and Gabriel grinned, making Castiel scowl. “be quiet. It’s been years, I am allowed to at least think about it.” Gabriel’s smile stretched even wider for a moment, before he could behave himself again.

“So you have someone in mind? Is it someone you work with?” Gabriel didn’t leave him enough time to actually form an answer before he straightened quickly and squinted at Castiel. “Please tell me it’s not that guy you met at that conference you attended last month.” Castiel leaned back a bit, away from Gabriel’s stare.

“Who?”

“The one you sent me a drunken text about. The guy that came to visit you to ask about some folklore stuff. You said he was hot and you wished he’d asked you to demonstrate pagan fertility rites.” Gabriel pulled out his phone and showed him the text. Castiel put his hand over his face in embarrassment. “You really shouldn’t drink wine and be left alone with older guys, Cas.”

“We _was_ attractive, even though he kept asking odd things,” Castiel insisted, but then he shook his head. “But not him. I don’t think anyone I know would be suitable.” Castiel looked at his watch; his lunch break was soon over and he had appointments with students he couldn’t possibly ditch.

“What about me? I’m a very potent lover,” Gabriel said with a wink, causing Castiel to roll his eyes.

“I know, but tempting as your offer is,” he said, getting up and pulling his wallet out of his bag. He looked down at Gabriel. “Would you really want to be the father of my child?” Gabriel chuckled and pulled the dessert menu towards him again.

“Nah, but if you want to have sex you know when my office hours are.” Castiel snorted and put the money on the table. “But what will you do now? How will you find your man?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel admitted, leaning against the table for a moment, trench coat in his lap. Gabriel reached out and patted his hip.

“You should write an ad in a newspaper. Professor looking for attractive and intelligent male for baby making purposes,” he said with a laugh and Castiel just hummed a distant affirmation at him, mind already elsewhere.

“I have to go, see you next week,” he said and walked off without another word. Gabriel turned around in their booth and watched him leave.

“I think he took that advice seriously,” he muttered, but then he shrugged and waved at the waitress to order ice cream.

\--

Two days after turning his back on Cicero, Indiana, Dean was slowly but surely coming up with a plan. He had called the owner of his old office and told him that he wouldn’t be coming back and arranged for Lisa to pack his stuff into boxes so he could pick them up later. The hardest part probably was to suck it up and drive to Lawrence, but he refused to actually go pester his mother for assistance. A cheap motel had to be sufficient as a base to go hunt for a new office to settle in. His mother wasn’t all that pleased that Dean preferred eating junk food when he could stay with her, but Dean was sulking. He wasn’t sure who had done it (Sam or Lisa or Ben were the most likely culprits), but someone had called his mother and told her everything about Dean and Lisa’s break up. He was just glad that he hadn’t received an “I told you so” from his dad yet.

 _“And what are you going to do now?”_ his mother asked, her voice ending on a sigh. He could hear her moving about in the kitchen, pots clanging and knife on the chopping board. _“I’m making lasagna, Dean.”_

“Mom, I told you. I’m driving up to Colorado later today,” he said and his mother sighed deeply.

 _“Yes, your mystery work in Colorado. If you need money I can hand it to you. There’s still enough money in your college fund, Dean,”_ she reminded him and Dean rolled his eyes. _“I just don’t want to read anything about a young man that got slaughtered behind a bar.”_ She heaved a sigh again. _“Maybe I should go with you.”_ Dean balked at that, the lazy circles he drew around the ad in the newspaper coming to a halt.

“I’m 29! I can take care of myself well enough!” he objected, “and I’ll just have to check something out. It’s not like I’m looking for a fight there. And I promise,” he added when he could hear his mother inhaling, “no hustling. And no trying to flirt with a girl that’s already taken.”

 _“Well, fine. That sounds fairly reasonable,”_ his mother agreed with a small huff of laughter. “ _But what about work? Do you have something in mind?”_ Dean grabbed one of the newspapers from the stack lying on his bed.

“Uh, yes. Yes, there’s a place I visited this morning and if the thing in Colorado works out then I should have enough money to rent it and hope it pans out.”

 _“Text me the address. I’ll have a look at it.”_ Dean pulled his hand through his short hair, shaking his head.

“Mom-“

 _“I insist. There’s no harm in me having a look at your future workplace, is there?”_ Dean sighed heavily, but he agreed for peace’s sake. _“Good, give me a call when you’re in Colorado.”_

“You’re totally overbearing, you know that?” Dean said, but it was with warmth in his voice and a smile on his lips. Sometimes he did miss this constant care his mother would shower him and Sam with.

 _“I love you too, sweetie,”_ she said and they hung up. Dean huffed and shook his head. He then made a grab for his duffel back, put his suit over his arm and picked up the ad.

“Okay, kinky Professor. Let’s see what you’re made of,” he said with a grin and stuck the ad into his back pocket, mind already on the money he would make if this worked out, not thinking about what the consequences of their meeting could possibly be.

\--

Castiel was sitting in his office at home when the door sprung open to reveal his brother. 

“What is this?” he asked, waving a piece of paper around and Castiel rolled back in his office chair a little to frown up at him.

“What?” His brother walked up to him and tossed the paper on Castiel’s desk, nearly making it fly off the other end.

“Yes, exactly! _What_!” He said and Castiel found it to be a print out of a mail, which had a poor photo, probably snapped with a cellphone camera, on it. The text was slightly blurry, but still easy enough to read:

_“Required for childbearing:_

_A young man, preferably between 25 and 40, non-smoker, with no known cases of hereditary illnesses. Must be willing to donate sperm (if sexual intercourse is desired it can be negotiated) and disclose personal information in preliminary sittings to determine aptitude.  
No relationship, contact with child or aliment payments are expected. The child will be well provided for._

_You will be compensated for your completed services with a total of 8000$. I will also provide you with accommodation and pay for meals during interviews and transaction._

_Interested parties please send your contact information to._

_Prof. E. C. Novak_

_Office hours Mo-Thur 9 to 12 AM, 2 to 5 PM”_

It was the ad he had sent to various newspapers upon Gabriel’s suggestion. He didn’t really find anything wrong with it, but the way it was presented to him – by his brother, as an attachment in a mail – was worrisome.

“Hi Emmy!” a girl said and Castiel looked up quickly enough to see his niece walk past, carrying his purring, fat cat with her.

“Hello Claire,” he called, “there’s chocolate mousse in the fridge.” He could hear her singing an _okay_ while skipping down the stairs again. Then he turned his attention back to his brother, who had both his hands pressed to the surface of his desk, trying but failing to keep a stern face. Castiel sighed and looked back down.

“Our cousin sent this mail today,” he said and Castiel groaned when he scanned the addressees that ranged from Jimmy– who was now glaring at a stack of notes about witch trials in late 18th century Germany – to Marv, the librarian who lived across from Gabriel’s faculty.

“How to get laid the Novak way” the email’s header read. There was no body of text only Gabriel adding a number of stupid emoticons before and after the photo of his ad in the newspaper.

“I called Gabriel. Just to figure out if this is just his idea of a bad joke,” Jimmy said while Castiel tossed the mail into the shredder, feeling some sort of vindictive glee to see the mail being torn to pieces.

“Is that what most people think?” Castiel wanted to know, keeping his voice indifferent even though he could think of curses he wanted to send Gabriel’s way for this undeserved humiliation.

“Lucky for you, yes.” Castiel saved his documents and got up from his chair with a sigh. “When did you plan on telling me?”

“Telling you what? That I wanted to have a child after all? Preferably not until it was too late for you to comment on it,” he replied and Jimmy hit him on the head with his stack of carefully assorted notes. “What did you expect? This is not something I could talk to you about.” Castiel got up from his chair and walked past his brother. He left the office, went down the hall and descended the stairs, their steps loud on the old creaking floorboards. Claire must have switched on the TV in the living room; muffled squeals of laughter greeted his ears. While Jimmy stopped to poke his head into the living room, Castiel went into the kitchen. Pans and dishes of the last two days were cluttering his workspace and he had almost run out of cups, most of them probably standing around somewhere in the house.

“You tried too, Cas. Don’t keep holding having a family against me,” Jimmy said once he got into the room and Castiel was slightly disappointed that he hadn’t been quick enough to distract him for a while with a cup of tea. “You decided against parenthood and I never told you that your choice was wrong. But you did want children. You always wanted children, Cas. You just hid all your frustration about it not working out behind your rallying for our rights _not_ to have them.” Castiel opened his mouth but Jimmy took the only empty cup he had found out of his hand to place it on the counter. Castiel felt nervous and empty without something to occupy his hands with. Jimmy pulled his hands apart when he started fidgeting and rubbing the fingers of his left hand. “And that was fine! It’s great that you have something you believe in. But there’s nothing wrong with having children. There’s nothing wrong in not having… what do you call it? _Pride of transgression_ , right? So I pass for a 100% straight family father with a respectable job. And I’m happy that way. Nobody needs to know about the insides of my body if I don’t want them to know.” Castiel leaned against the fridge, feeling the cool metal tickle at his exposed neck above the collar of his shirt. Jimmy must have been waiting for Castiel to say something, but Castiel just managed a shrug and Jimmy sighed, putting his hand behind him on the kitchen island.

“Okay. Listen, Cas… I’m happy that you want to have a baby. And I’ll support you all the way, even,” he rolled his eyes, pulling his mouth up into a grin, “if it means having to resort to such idiotic means.”

“It’s actually highly productive,” Castiel told him and finally turned around to brew them tea. “The ad has been in the newspapers for 3 days and I have received numerous responses. After weeding out the bad ones there had still been a dozen prospective males I have agreed to meet. So far none of them met my standards, but I have to be careful after all.” Jimmy just shook his head with an indulgent smile.

“Daddy?” Both men turned around when Claire came into the kitchen, the light hair of Castiel’s cat all over her shirt. “Remember that Mom told you to pick up groceries,” she reminded him, before she looked at Castiel. “Thanks for the dessert!”

“You’re welcome,” Castiel replied, bending down to receive a kiss to the cheek from the pre-teen. “I’ll call you if anything comes up,” he told his brother.

“Yeah, you better do, if I have to get news through Gabriel’s embarrassing grapevine again, I cannot be held accountable for my actions,” he said and Castiel smiled. Jimmy lifted his finger, waving it around the kitchen. “And clean your mess. A professor like you should have at least time to have a decent looking kitchen.”

“If that was a get back to the kitchen quip it wasn’t particularly funny,” Castiel said flatly and Jimmy laughed. The brothers hugged before they said their good-byes. Castiel looked at his kitchen, but then he decided that it could wait for a while longer. He had meetings to organize and people to research. And he had to think of a way to punish Gabriel for being an asshole. Before he could however decide on a specific course of action, his phone peeped, announcing a new email had arrived in his mailbox. He went back to his office, picking up his cat on the way and sat in front of the computer again. The mail had been redirected from his university address.

_“Hey Professor._

_2.30 sounds good to me. I’ve passed the diner you mentioned on the way to the hotel so I know where to be._

_See you tomorrow,_

_Dean Winchester.”_

Castiel smiled to himself. Even if nothing came out of this meeting, at least he’d spend an afternoon drinking coffee with a stranger. Considering how little he got out and how much he actually liked socializing, this was a small adventure. But other than dwelling on how the meeting with Dean would be like Castiel decided that now was the time to do some damage control and pester Gabriel into apologizing.

\--

Since it was a Saturday afternoon the diner was comfortably quiet, just a few people drinking their coffee. Castiel had been to this place often enough to start recognizing the regulars of the diner.

“Hey professor,” one of the waitresses greeted with a wink, interrupting his sweeping gaze over the people, and he turned to smile at her. “Here again without Gabriel?” she asked and when Castiel nodded her lips formed a grin. “So another date then.”

“It’s not a date, Eve,” he told her with a sigh and she stemmed both hands onto the surface of the counter top, eying him with a raised eyebrow.

“So that handsome guy in the back isn’t waiting for you then?” she asked and Castiel turned to look at the corner where she was pointing. There was a young man, maybe in his mid to late twenties, sitting in the booth. He was wearing a suit and had folders before him, but he wasn’t looking at them. Castiel felt an unexpected shiver run down his spine to see that the man was obviously studying him with intensity. Eve lifted her hand and gave a two finger wave at him and Castiel saw the man’s mouth form into a grin and he lifted his own hand to beckon Castiel to join him. Castiel turned back around to Eve and she couldn’t contain the laughter that erupted when she saw his expression.

“Yes, he’s hot and he’s here for you. So why don’t you go over there?” Castiel nodded stiffly, took a breath and walked up to the booth.

“You must be Dean Winchester,” he said, his voice sounding rough even to his own ears.

“Yes,” the man replied, not at all disturbed by the slightly chilly tone of Castiel’s greeting, and he got up to shake hands. Castiel took in the nice suit he was wearing. He kind of looked like an FBI agent from the series Gabriel had tried to make him watch countless times. Too mysterious and handsome to be the real deal. “Emmanuel, right?” Castiel nodded silently. “Let’s take a seat!” Castiel sat down opposite Dean and stared at him. “Isn’t it a bit warm for a trench coat?” Dean wondered and Castiel blinked at him owlishly, before he gave a start and shrugged out of his overcoat, trying not to fumble too much and hoping that he wasn’t blushing. The last time a man had made him feel flustered like this had been almost 20 years ago. This was mildly unsettling.

“Okay! Here are some of my medical records,” Dean said and Castiel blinked at him in surprise when he was handed manila folders. Dean inclined his head downwards, nodding at the folder in Castiel’s hands and Castiel opened it. “No diseases I know of, also no STDs. But I’m allergic to cats and my Dad has inclinations towards too much alcohol.” Castiel looked up from the files to meet Dean’s eyes.

“Is that a deal breaker?” he joked and Castiel did accredit him his self-assured attitude.

“I don’t think so, I do have a cat though,” he said and Dean leant back against the leather seat with an easy shrug.

“Here you go. Coffee and pie.” Castiel drew his eyes away from Dean grinning at him to look at Eve standing before them with a tray.

“Oh, we haven’t-“ Castiel started but Dean interrupted him:

“I’ve already ordered since I was here too early. I hope you like coffee and pie.” Castiel just looked at him in wonder when Eve put the plates and cups on the table. “I mean I don’t care about the coffee, but if you don’t like pie… Dude, that might be a deal breaker for me.” Castiel couldn’t help smiling at that and he lifted the cup up to his mouth to hide it.

“No. I like pie,” he said and looked at Dean over the brim of the cup, finding a pleased smile gracing the other man’s features.

“Okay boys, enjoy yourselves,” Eve said, patting Cas on the shoulder before she left. Castiel didn’t want to be overzealous in his judgment of Dean, but somehow he felt like they would be enjoying themselves sooner or later.

“I’m actually surprised you chose a diner, I assumed you’d want to meet in a classy location or something,” Dean said, eating his pie with delight that made Castiel forget that he had his own dessert to enjoy. “Or aren’t professors of,” Dean stopped and looked at a file which was next to his elbow, “historical anthropology the kind of people to hang around in expensive places?”

“Maybe they are, but I’m not the kind of person to hang around anywhere,” Castiel replied, then he looked at the folder Dean was studying. “Have you done research on me?”

“Just basic stuff, so that I knew who I was dealing with. Or who was having my babies,” he said with a wink that embarrassingly enough made Castiel’s cheeks heat up. But this was it, having a child with this stranger was the one reason they were meeting in the first place.

“I did think about it,” Castiel blurted out and Dean looked at him in confusion. “Holding these meetings in expensive restaurants or in my office. But it seemed too impersonal considering what the point of the meetings is.” Dean mocked contemplation, humming to himself, but then he nodded with a smile. “Most of the men didn’t really feel good sitting in a cheap diner. But you don’t seem to mind.”

“Hell no,” Dean said, patting the fake leather surface of the bench, “I had to travel a lot for my work, so I’m quite used to it.”

“And what’s your line of work?”Castiel wondered, watching Dean intently, seeing him shift in his seat a tiny bit. “I did only the basic research to make sure that you’re not a wanted criminal, but other than that I am ill prepared.” This made Dean relax a little bit again even though Castiel only realized he had tensed when he saw his fists on the table uncurl.

“I just quit my work because my girlfriend and I broke up and I left the state… But I’m a social worker,” Dean said eventually. He snorted when he saw Castiel’s eyes travel over his clothes again. “Some people don’t trust you when you wear a suit, others don’t trust you if you don’t show up dressed like James Bond,” he said. Castiel quirked his lips up into a tiny smile, but then he cleared his throat and nodded.

“I am sorry about your girlfriend,” he said, but Dean shrugged it off. Maybe this was not the right topic to discuss and it was none of Castiel’s business either. It wouldn’t matter if he was unfaithful or had commitment issues or what else led people into break ups. Castiel didn’t need Dean to be in a relationship with him. All he wanted was his healthy sperm to have a healthy baby. But did he want that? Was he already so smitten with this charming man that he knew he wanted him? Castiel was so absorbed that Dean had to snap his fingers in front of his eyes to get his attention again.

“What?” Castiel asked, startled and Dean had to laugh.

“You okay Emmanuel?”

“Yeah… Sorry, I was just lost in thoughts,” he admitted and Dean shook his head at him, still smiling. “What were you saying?”

“I asked about your research,” he said and Castiel frowned in confusion. Dean tapped his index finger against an open folder. Somehow Castiel felt like he was part of an interrogation now. Shouldn’t he be the one to ask Dean questions? To make sure that he was suitable as his child’s father? “You’re researching all kinds of supernatural beings. You’re into monsters, prof?”

“I’d call it a hobby. It does tie in with my normal field as well, because what people believed in and in some cases still believe in today, is a substantial part of humans’ lives. It would be irresponsible to exclude superstition from academic interest simply because it’s not real,” Castiel explained and Dean smiled secretively to himself. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, because I grew up with all kind of monster stories,” Dean said, picking up his coffee and didn’t say more on it. Castiel looked down and his hands were damp when he put them on his knees. There had been nothing judgmental in Dean’s tone when he has asked the question - and Castiel had gotten belittling smiles for almost everything he did by men and women alike – but the fleeting interest did make him wonder why Dean felt it necessary to mention. Did it strike Dean as ridiculous that a well-known professor would find interest in folklore? With Dean drinking his coffee and Castiel worrying, they were silent for an extended moment and Castiel grew a bit fidgety, feeling like he had to fill it with something interesting, but failing. Dean didn’t seem to be all too perturbed by the noise of the diner being the only thing between them, but he took pity on Castiel when he noticed how tense he was.

“Maybe this is none of my business, but your approach to getting a baby is kinda unconventional,” he said at last and Castiel latched on to the topic with a sigh of relief.

“Yes,” he said, but then he straightened and tilted his head. “No, why unconventional?” Dean chuckled and picked up his fork again, trying to scrap the rest of his pie off the plate. Castiel was tempted to offer him his slice as well, but he didn’t want it to look like he didn’t like pie after all. So he picked up the fork too and took a few bites while he waited for Dean to talk.

“You’re a good looking guy,” Dean stopped himself and looked up at Castiel with a suddenly serious expression which made Castiel swallow the mouthful of pie he had been chewing with an embarrassingly loud gulp. “Is that okay?”

“I don’t-“ Castiel started in confusion, but Dean continued:

“That I said _guy_. Sam, uh, that’s my little brother, has told me you’re quite influential in the whole gender fluidity debate,” Dean didn’t stumble over the words, but he looked like he wasn’t all that certain about what he was saying.

“You read up on that?” Castiel wondered, seeing Dean shrug. “It’s okay. Not many people address me with female pronouns.”

“But I saw that some do. I thought that you were a woman at first, because it didn’t cross my mind that you might be… well, one of the guys that can have babies.” Dean scratched his neck. “Sorry, I don’t really know the terminology.”

“There is no set terminology yet that has found its way into everyday language. It’s fine, don’t worry,” he told him and Dean did seem slightly less tense after hearing it.

“I’m sure you could find someone without having to look for guys through an ad?” Dean suggested and Castiel shrugged.

“Possible, but I didn’t want it to be someone I know and I didn’t want everyone to be aware of my endeavors. Nobody I know bothers reading the personal ads in newspapers so I assumed I was safe,” he said and Dean grinned slightly, nodding. “But does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” Castiel lifted his hands to indicate down his body. “That you’re a guy? Not really. I mean,” he started, scratching his fork against the plate quietly, “I haven’t exactly… Uh. Been with a guy before, but I’m not…” he snorted and looked up. He was blushing slightly, but he looked confident. “I know what goes where and I’m… well. Sorry, but you’re very attractive. I’ll get it up if you want me to get it up,” he said and Castiel stared at him. Dean was already opening his mouth to form an embarrassed apology, but Castiel huffed, smiling at Dean.

“Thank you,” he said at last and Dean breathed in through his nose, before he nodded, smiling as well.

“So… You’ve got more dates lined up for you?” Dean asked, sounding casual enough as he traced some of the folders. Even though technically Castiel had arranged to meet two people for a second exchange of information, Castiel shook his head and Dean’s hand stopped. He leaned a bit closer, smiling at Castiel. “And what do you say, Emmanuel? How are my chances?” Dean’s eyes were a nice color and there were faint freckles on his face. Castiel was staring at Dean’s lips even as he contemplated giving a clever answer to the question, possibly something that contained statistics. But it wasn’t what finally made it through his suddenly dry mouth.

“Castiel,” he replied and Dean’s flirty look dropped, a puzzled expression replacing it. “Most people call me Emmanuel, but I prefer Castiel. It’s… less professional and clear cut.”

“Castiel,” Dean said, rolling the name around his mouth in a way that made Castiel resist squirming again.

“Good.” He said and took his fork in his hand, slowly reaching out to sink it into Castiel’s pie. He lifted the fork up and grinned. “Cas.”

Castiel, despite all the years he had done his best to avoid all kinds of dates, knew when he was being flirted with. Some of the men he had met had tried to, at times also rather charmingly, but none of them had done such a spectacular job of getting Castiel interested as Dean had.

“You don’t need to see the child,” Castiel said and Dean grinned. “And you don’t need to pay for anything.”

“Now we’re talking business, okay,” he said with his mouth still full, but it didn’t make Castiel want to kiss him less.

“I will do my best to make sure that your sperm will develop into a healthy and happy child that will lack nothing,” Castiel continued, voice somber and clear. It caused Dean to lose the grin, straighten a bit and nod. “I will pay you 80% of the money after a positive pregnancy test and the rest after the first trimester is completed. In case it doesn’t hold I might contact you again and we can renegotiate. I’d of course pay you again if we had to repeat the process.”

“So we have a deal, professor?” Dean asked and held out his hand. Castiel looked at him, but Dean, other than most people under Castiel’s scrutiny, didn’t falter. Castiel took his hand.

“We have a deal, Dean Winchester.” Dean grinned and clapped his hands after Castiel had let go.

“And how do we go about it?” he asked and the question sent a spark of warmth through Castiel. He knew what he wanted, he was absolutely sure about it, but it’s been years and years and somehow his mouth didn’t work on the first try, swallowing his words in an embarrassing stutter. Dean was patient however, already collecting his folders and putting them into a bag.

“I am partial towards sexual intercourse with you,” he finally said and Dean kept his head turned towards his bag, but Castiel saw the wide grin.

“Good,” he said after he had straightened again. “When and where?”

 “I have to clean a bit… But would you be willing to come to dinner today?” Castiel asked, “we can discuss how we want to go about it then.”

“Sure,” Dean said and Castiel knocked his knees into the table in his hasty attempt to get on his feet. “You’re leaving?”

“Yes… Yes I need to get ready,” he muttered and pulled out his wallet from the trench coat pocket. He handed him a card. “I will take care of the bill and this’s my address. Will seven be okay?” After Dean nodded Castiel wanted to put on his coat, but Dean got up, gently pulling it out of his fingers and holding it out for him. “Oh. Oh, thank you,” he said, slipping into it with ease. He usually scoffed when men tried to help him into his coat, but for some reason Dean being gallant sent a spark of nervous excitement through Castiel. A sense of finally being right where he was supposed to be spread inside of him and it was foolish, it was against everything he had wanted since he got that heart shattering _“no”_ years ago. “Seven?”

“I’ll be there,” Dean replied softy, distracting Castiel’s bout of worry with a smile. Castiel was suddenly too nervous to do the same, so he nodded, stuffed his hands into his pockets because he didn’t know where else to put them and turned around. “See you later, Cas!”

Castiel mouthed a shocked and for his tastes far too childish “ _oh my God_ ” at Eve, when he was passing her and she barely contained her laughter, winking at him and taking the 20$ bill he handed her with a grin.

The door shut behind Castiel, the sound of the bell tingling muffled by the glass and the strong smell of coffee and grilled cheese was replaced by the sharp crisp air after rain. Still dumbstruck he shuffled to where he had put his bicycle, but before he got on it he took a deep breath, feeling that there wasn’t enough air in his lungs. He pulled out his phone and sent his brother a message, fingers steady even though they were a bit slippery on the buttons:

“Got a dinner date with father of future child at 7 PM.”

Jimmy’s reply came when Castiel climbed onto his bike and he was glad now that he had found out about Castiel’s plans. He had at least one ally whose ridiculing would be kept at a minimum.

_“Seriously?! Give me an hour. I’ll bring groceries and cleaning equipment.”_

Castiel winced internally, because Jimmy’s surprise wasn’t unexpected. Castiel didn’t do things like this. He didn’t just meet random strangers and get excited over the idea of having sex, unprotected sex on top of that. But here he was, cycling as quickly as he could to get ready for a potentially life changing night.


	2. Chapter 2

The décor of the motel Dean has chosen for his stay was a tad too tacky for his own tastes. The time he had spent under Lisa’s roof, dealing with people who needed help from some sort of home base, had definitely ruined him for crappy motel rooms. This one wasn’t even all that bad. It was clean, but there was that undeniable atmosphere of superficiality that Dean couldn’t shake off. From his position at the table he could look out of the window but the only pleasant sight that greeted him was his car shining brightly in the early evening sun.

He had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to educate himself on people like Castiel only to come up with the slightly unsettling conclusion that there weren’t many. And if they were like him, they were hidden away, passing as something that had been more socially acceptable in the last decades. And, reading through the printouts of Sam’s mail again, that was exactly the reason professor Novak had been so vocal and engaged since he started college. Other cultures, Sam had been helpful to provide, were better about dealing with people that were born outside of the binary. Certainly they were better than the West seemed to be considering all the forced operations and treatments and the sterilizations up until recently.

Dean though he’d just have to figure out if his ideas of “what went where” really did apply to a man who was able to bear children. In the end Castiel knew his body best, he’d tell Dean what he wanted him to do. Strange as it was, the lack of second thoughts about having sex with a guy still didn’t bother Dean. On the contrary, he was actually looking forwards to the nights he’d spend with the professor.

But as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t just hang around here for as long as it pleased him. He was glad that it looked pretty good for him as far as the reward money was concerned. He was reservedly confident he could rent that place his mother had given her okay to (“it’s inviting. Far better than that dirty place you called an office back in Cicero”). He didn’t have any illusions though: trying to establish himself in a new city was difficult. There were plenty of phone calls to make so that his contacts knew that he hadn’t fallen off the face of the earth and that probably was the easiest part of it all.

A soft vibration made him look up from the files he was studying. He got up and snatched the phone off the bed where he had tossed it carelessly. It was almost time to go and Dean still didn’t know if jeans and a button down shirt would be enough for today or if a suit and tie were what the professor was into.

The message was from Sam:

_“I try not to butt into your things, but why do you care about what E.C. Novak has to say on equality? Is it relevant for one of your clients? I’ve got a list of PC vocab from the gender studies department in case you need it.”_

“Don’t need it if Novak doesn’t use it,” Dean texted back, not feeling the need to tell him that he was actually meeting Castiel in half an hour. Knowing Sam he’d probably want a textbook signed. Before throwing the phone back onto the bed, he decided to add something: “Got a date. Suit or casual?”

Dean rummaged around in his duffel bag for clothes. He knew that he looked good in a suit, but showing up for a homemade dinner, possibly followed by sex, wasn’t necessarily a great venue for being all too chic. The professor had worn casual clothes, rumpled trench coat and ruffled hair included. He hadn’t bothered to dress up for a meeting in a diner, so he probably wouldn’t dress up for something taking part in his own home either. Sam’s reply arrived by the time Dean had decided on brown socks instead of a dark blue pair and keeping the dark gray underwear on.

_“Casual if you’re confident, suit if you’re not. You tend to not be honest in suits,”_ Sam’s message read and Dean frowned but there was truth in it. He hadn’t been completely honest with Castiel either during their first meeting. _“Novak’s situation is different to yours. It doesn’t hurt you to be careful about what you say.”_

“I am. Now shut up, I’ve got to dress,” Dean texted back, then he turned his attention back to his clothes.

\--

The address Dean had received wasn’t too far away from where they had first met. It was a quiet part of town, the main street distant enough to go unheard. Castiel’s house didn’t have a car in the driveway, so Dean went to park there. He got out of the car and looked up at the house. It was rather big, considering that only one man and a cat lived there. The blue paint was peeling off the shutters and the grass was rather high in the front lawn. There was weed pushing out from between the cobblestones of the path that led to the door. There were pots standing on the window sills and against the front wall, the plants not yet in bloom, but there was green wilderness threatening to spill onto the floor or cover the windows. Wooden steps that creaked under Dean’s boots guided him to a spacious veranda playing host to a bench, more plants and an old looking bicycle complete with a woven basket that held empty jars. It looked unruly and was nothing Dean would want on his own front porch, but it was still charming somehow. He approached the door and rang the bell.

 He could hear the shuffling of feet on the other side of the door and Dean put a grin on his face for when the door opened. Castiel was looking at him, studying him critically from head to toe. His grin was pretty wide when he got to his face and Dean lifted an eyebrow. Castiel wore dark slacks and a pale blue dress shirt, his hair must have been combed at one point, but it was a bit messed up by now. He was the same as before, the same man, but somehow that excited feeling wasn’t there as much as it had been in the diner. Not that it really mattered. He put on a grin on his face.

“Hello,” he said, but kept himself to the door. Castiel tilted his head to the side.

“Well, are you just going to stand on the porch? Come in!” Maybe he had already started on the wine without Dean, because he certainly sounded gentler, his voice smoother than how it had been in the diner. Well, confidence was good, Dean though, but still squinted at him critically as he shuffled past the threshold. “Maybe you can wait in the living room,” Castiel said and Dean nodded, but then he heard the sound of a door being shut upstairs.

“Jimmy! Was that the doorbell?” And a second later there was the sound of feet going down the stairs and Castiel stood in the entrance hall, hair a mess, washed out jeans and a dark t-shirt that was a bit tight and left little of the torso underneath up to Dean’s imagination. “Hello, Dean,” he said and Dean blinked up at him.

“So you… You come in pairs then?” was the only kind of funny thing Dean could think of. Castiel glowered at his look-alike when he thought Dean wasn’t looking, his irritation quite obvious.

“I’m Jimmy Novak, sorry for the confusion.” Dean turned his head away from Castiel, who was raising his eyebrows at his brother (twins, _of course_ ) in what he probably thought was a subtle request for the other man to get lost, but Jimmy blatantly ignored it, holding out his hand for Dean to shake.

“Dean Winchester. And that’s… fine. I must have looked like a fool,” Dean said sheepishly but Jimmy just laughed while Castiel remained silent, keeping his fists balled at his sides and his posture very rigid. He was nervous, Dean could tell and Jimmy could too, because he smiled at his brother after he had let go of Dean’s hand.

“No, you didn’t. If the puzzled way you kept eying me gives me a tiny bit of confidence that Cas’ choice for dates is actually decent. His last boyfriend wouldn’t have been able to tell us apart if not for our different choice in clothes.”

“Jimmy,” Castiel growled and his brother took the hint.

“Okay, you two. Have fun,” he said and went to the clothes’ stand.

“Thank you, Jimmy,” Castiel said and Jimmy grinned at them both.

“It was nice meeting you,” Dean commented and Jimmy nodded, gave a short wave and then he was out of the door and Dean and Castiel were alone.

“Did you find your way easily?” Castiel wondered, choosing to leave the previous incident uncommented, and he sounded tense, so Dean put his hand on his shoulder and nodded. Castiel’s lips pressed together before raising at the corners lightly. “Good… How about dinner?”

“Sounds awesome,” Dean replied and Castiel wordlessly guided him down the corridor. The table was set for two, meticulously arranged glasses and plates on a decorated, dark wooden table. By daylight this must have been a very bright, cozy room, but now the many windows showed out into a dark garden, the curtains partially drawn. Castiel grabbed the back of a chair, digging his nails into the wood, and looked at Dean with a wide eyed expression.

“It’s a very nice place you’ve got here. Very neat,” Dean complimented, but Castiel responded by gripping the seat tighter and slowly lowering his head. Dean could see that the tips of his ear were red. “Cas? Dude, are you okay?”

“I can’t cook,” Cas blurted out and immediately after sucked in a loud.

“That’s okay, I’ve got a sturdy stomach,” Dean joked, but Castiel wasn’t really appeased.

“I take my food into the living room, or my office. Sometimes I sit on the stairs or on the kitchen floor,” he continued and the more he spoke the more Dean had to bite his lips from not bursting out laughing. “I don’t… Jimmy decorated all of this. I’m sorry…”

“Dude… That’s okay,” Dean assured him and Castiel pulled the chair out, the legs scratching against the wooden floor. He slumped down with a sigh.

“That was embarrassing, I apologize,” Castiel muttered and Dean pulled a chair in front of Cas, sitting down. “But I felt dishonest.” Dean smiled. The fact that Castiel got so worked up over something as ordinary as a decorated table caused as strange sort of affection to swell in Dean. “It will be sufficiently clean and there will be flowers on the table, but my child won’t eat from a perfectly decked table.”

“That’s cool with me,” Dean told him and Castiel looked up, “really. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled until Castiel’s mouth quirked up a bit as well. “So how about we take a plate and go eat in the living room then?” Castiel tilted his head, studying Dean, but then he smile gratefully and nodded.

“It must seem odd,” Castiel said when he loaded food onto the plates and Dean was looking around the tiled kitchen. It was spacious enough and quite modern but it didn’t seem like it got used a lot apart from the fridge – which was covered with magnets and pieces of papers –, the microwave and the coffee machine. “You’d probably expected me to display a bit more grace.” Dean took the offered plate and wine glass and followed Castiel into the living room. That place was far more to Dean’s tastes even though a slightly unruly atmosphere persevered despite the fact that it was recently cleaned. The couch was covered by various pillows and no piece of furniture seemed to match, but it still looked nice and lived in.

“Well, no. Not necessarily,” Dean said and watched Castiel balance his food on his knees, a pea rolling off the plate and causing a small stain on Castiel’s jeans. It didn’t seem like the professor cared all too much, grabbing the pea and popping it into his mouth. Dean’s mouth stretched into a smile, lifting his eyebrow at Castiel when he turned to look at him. “It’s not all that common to look for a sperm donor by writing an ad in a newspaper.” Castiel made a low humming down at that, shrugging. It was apparent that Castiel found it perfectly acceptable to do so and considering that Dean was sitting on his couch, eating a wonderful steak, mashed potatoes and some vegetable stuff on the side that looked more like decoration that actual food (but he ate it anyway), his approach was successful. “Besides,” Dean added and Castiel looked back up at him, finding a charming grin on Dean’s face, “I’m handsome to look at right? Some manner of loss of grace is flattering.”

“You’re definitely the most handsome man I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Castiel replied and the swiftness of the answer as well as the total lack of sarcasm made Dean actually blush. “What?”

“Oh. I’m… Okay,” Dean said, putting some steak in his mouth and Castiel seemed to not need further explanation for the red coloring Dean’s cheeks. It was unusual for Dean to actually get flustered by a compliment, especially not by a person he knew he’d have sex with, but for some reason it meant a lot to him to actually have Castiel compliment him. Maybe he shouldn’t be so happy since he had prompted such an answer, but here Dean was, grinning down into his assortment of vegetables.

“How’s the food?” Castiel asked, taking a sip of his wine. The redness of the wine clung to Castiel’s lips and Dean sort of wished that they’d already covered enough bases to make leaning in and kissing the droplets away appropriate.

“Good,” Dean said, licking his lips as Castiel turned the glass around in his fingers and over his lips.

“Would you like,” Castiel started and Dean drew his eyes away from Castiel’s lips, following the line of his nose and getting stuck by his eyes. Castiel stopped talking when Dean forced himself to look away, studying the backs of the DVDs and Blurays in Castiel’s shelf. He had read a number of titles by the time Castiel breathed in and cleared his throat. Dean looked at him when he heard the sound of the wine glass being set down on the side table. “Would you like to kiss me?” That got Dean’s attention and he accidentally scrapped his fork on the plate, the screeching sound piercing the silence, but Castiel hadn’t flinched.

“A bit,” Dean lied, letting himself be caught by the inviting shape of Castiel’s lips again.

“Then do you want to kiss me a bit?” he replied and Dean couldn’t help the amused huff that escaped him.

“This isn’t my smoothest romantic interaction,” Dean confessed, but took a firmer hold of his plate, so that it didn’t fall down as he leant over to Castiel for a quick peg on the lips. A kiss that they might have exchanged had they been lovers before. A familiar, sweet and uncomplicated kiss after which both of them returned to their dinner but with renewed smiles on their faces.

“I think as far as romantic interactions are concerned I feel this one is rather smooth.”

“Do I even want to know what you consider bad flirting if you think this was actually good?”

“The last time I tried to flirt I considered talking about sacrificing people to pagan gods a good ice breaker and dropped a heavy facsimile volume on the foot of the gentleman. It was a bit embarrassing.” Dean winced in sympathy even though Castiel just shrugged, apparently already over his blunder. “And my last… boyfriend,” Dean wondered if there was any meaning in that little pause but didn’t think it a good time to ask, “didn’t flirt at all. It wasn’t necessary, I was too smitten with him to think anything he did was less than admirable.”

“Right, I hope he at least thought the same about you,” Dean said, but when Castiel only smiled a bit ruefully, he put his nearly empty plate aside. This time he put his palm against Castiel’s smooth jaw, letting it glide a bit until his fingers were in the soft hair and covered the still smiling lips with his mouth. “He should have.”

“I know,” Castiel replied and kissed back. It was still gentle and there was no urgency in the movements of their lips or the brush of hands and the shifting of bodies as they got closer and slotted together. Castiel was slouching on the sofa, both legs flat on the ground and Dean hovered above him, kissing and letting Castiel’s hands explore his chest, arms and back before they found a more permanent place in Dean’s short hair.

Dean looked down into Castiel’s face when he released his lips with a wet smack. He seemed quite content, a blush on his cheeks and his eyes were wide in wonder.

“I haven’t been kissed like this before. Or at least not in a long time,” Castiel confessed before Dean could ask, letting Castiel sit back up. “I’m quite up for more of the same,” he said and Dean grinned, liking the feel of Castiel’s nails gently scratching his head, messing up Dean’s hair. “But I have dessert.”

“I’d take you for dessert,” Dean said with a wink and it took Castiel a second of staring at Dean with a blank look to react with a loop sided grin.

“I think that might go under bad flirting,” Castiel said, but he stood up and pulled Dean to his feet, “but it’s actually quite effective.” Dean wiggled his eyebrows, feeling too good about the entire situation to actually care about how silly he was being. “I’ll show you my bedroom.”

\--

Castiel’s hands were sweaty by the time he pushed open the door to his bedroom. He felt heat from the dip between his collar bones up to the tip of his ears. His lips were still tingling, the taste of the delicious sauce Jimmy had cooked up mixing with the vivid memory of the texture of Dean’s lips, so soft and inviting. Castiel wasn’t ashamed to feel the fluttering sensation deep in his belly spread up into his rib cage, excitement pulsing with each breath, neither did he feel less than ecstatic that it slipped down too, like hands carefully tickling down to his lap. Castiel turned on the light and gave his room a critical once over like he had done many times before since it had become apparent that Dean would be seeing the inside of Castiel’s house sooner rather than later. There was a mug from the morning on the window sill next to a stack of books but other than that he had managed to clean everything properly. Dean sat on the made bed without being prompted, but it was a pleasant image to have this handsome almost stranger there even though he usually only allowed his cat, his laptop or his niece inside his comfortable nest.

“Nice room,” Dean commented and it took Castiel a moment to realize what he had said. He gave a nod, watching Dean lift the lid of the box standing on Castiel’s night table. “You’re prepared.” Dean said after a while and the blush that had crept onto his cheeks made Castiel’s heart leap in anticipation.

“I’ve been prepared the moment I decided I wanted a child,” he said and without further ado got out of his shirt. Dean was watching him keenly, his hand rummaging in the box, pulling out one of the many tubes of lubricants after a bit of searching. The way Dean was momentarily distracted enough by the choice presented to him caused Castiel to wonder if maybe he had overdone it with the lube. But he knew that he needed a lot of preparation to fit something other than his fingers.

“You do want to do it the… uh… usual way, right?” Dean wondered, craning his neck to study the insemination kit Castiel had gotten for himself. “I mean… This is your choice obviously, but-“

“I do want to have sex with you,” Castiel said and unzipped his pants, getting out of them and his underwear in a matter of seconds. “If you want?” Dean lowered his head, grinning sheepishly at the floor.

“Yeah. I just… well… this is new, so I’ll need a bit of guidance.” Even as he said it, his eyes travelled down Castiel’s body, a hot trail from his face to his groin, sending goose bumps down Castiel’s arms and legs. The newfound arousal after many years of not caring for sexual relations was surprising, but it was also liberating. Castiel let out a happy, relieved sigh, going to Dean and climbing into his lap when the other man had nodded at him.

“It’s been years,” Castiel confessed between one kiss and the next, earning himself a puzzled look. Castiel bit his lips as Dean’s green eyes studied him intensely. Castiel wasn’t ashamed in the least, neither at the long time he hadn’t enjoyed another man touching him nor at how he reveled in the hands on his back and the lips nipping at his jaw. He soaked up the touches like dry earth craving fresh rain.

“But it’s okay?” It was the only question Dean asked and Castiel was glad for it, not interested in the least to interrupt the movements of their bodies against each other, especially not for something as boring as his nonexistent love life.

“Of course it’s okay,” he assured him, leaning past Dean’s shoulder and letting himself drop down on the mattress, legs still hooked around Dean’s waist. “Do you want to have sex?”

“A bit,” Dean told him with a grin, licking his lips as he put his hands around Castiel’s ankles, rubbing slightly before he traced up Castiel’s legs, slowly moving his body until he was kneeling between Castiel’s slightly spread legs. Castiel snorted, then he took one of Dean’s hands and brought it to his lap. Immediately Dean’s eyes left Castiel’s face. He had been wanting to look, curiosity mixing with awe, but a sense of shyness and the novelty of it all had prevented him. It was easy with Castiel’s fingers so sure around his hand.

Castiel had rarely had someone study him with such interest and Dean let his hand be guided as Castiel saw fit. He felt a surge of sudden excitement to be able to teach Dean something with his body, to let him map a territory that was new to almost everyone.

Dean’s fingers moved over Castiel’s slightly swollen cock, following the push of Castiel’s hand to the head where Castiel let Dean rub experimentally until he had a moan slip past Castiel’s lips next to all the little sighs and gasps. Dean didn’t ask questions, not about the diminished size of his penis, nor about the small bumps where Dean had expected balls. Castiel guided him past them and the softer skin below, immaculate and holding strong against Dean’s probing finger because no pregnancy hormones had started thinning it out and no child has broken though yet.

“This is amazing,” Dean whispered, but before he could try to push against the wall with unaware, damaging force, Castiel grabbed his wrist and slipped it down where his hole was. “It’s still going through here?”

“I’ll draw you a diagram if you want,” Castiel told him a bit breathlessly, but Dean only chuckled and drew the fingers of his free hand over the back of Castiel’s hand. Gentle and soothing, the small innocent touch causing Castiel to moan, maybe with bliss or maybe a bit mournfully, he wasn’t entirely sure, but a heavy feeling was settling in his stomach. He felt almost desperate to resolve it, to have Dean closer and to hold him and not let him go. The need was raw and left Castiel feeling more vulnerable than before, but the broken off whine that built in his throat was eased up when Dean chose that moment to look up, his eyes warm and holding far more adoration than Castiel thought possible for someone he had only just met. Even though there was a nagging voice in the back of his head telling him this could get more complicated than he wanted it to be, he couldn’t help relaxing. A gentle lover was what Dean seemed to be and Castiel smiled at him.

“It’s okay. You can give me an anatomy lesson later,” he said, but then he paused, his face becoming thoughtful. “Unless I need to know now.  What should I do?”

“Stretch me and penetrate me. It’s quite simple,” Castiel said him with a raised eyebrow and Dean’s lips quirked up at the corners.

“Right,” he said, the pop of him opening the cap of the lubricant tube accompanying the amusement Castiel could hear vibrating in his voice. “I do know how to do that, some of the ladies are into this too.”

“As are some men,” Castiel said, not keeping the curiosity out of his voice. Dean looked up after he had squirted a generous amount of lubricant onto his fingers. Some of it dropped heavily onto the covers, the sounds like the innocent start of a thunderstorm. Castiel wished for more of what he had been promised with an intensity he hadn’t felt before.

“Well, I do like anal sex I suppose, but it’s not something I…,” Dean scrunched up his nose a bit, then he bit his lips, a look of concentration passing his face. Castiel felt two of Dean’s slick finger circling his hole. “It’s not something I need to feel for myself if that’s what you mean. I know for some it’s good.” Dean’s finger slipped inside, the lube easing it and Dean made a surprised sound at how little resistance there was.

“It is good,” Castiel managed to say at the end of a long sigh and Dean took this as encouragement to move his fingers in and out, squeezing in a second when Castiel bit his lips and curled his fingers into Dean’s palm, nudging at his digits demandingly. “For me. You’re doing well.” Castiel kept his eyes trailed on Dean, watching his blush spread, the small ducking of his head at the compliment and how he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. He couldn’t help staring even though he had been told before that his tendency to do so was creepy. But taking his eyes off of Dean, who was careful and excited and bashful, was physically impossible. And it didn’t seem like Dean noticed anyway, pushing in a third finger, keeping his movements slow and deep. Nobody had done this to Castiel before with such dedication, not even when he’d been in a long-term relationship.

“You’re beautiful.” Castiel widened his eyes in surprise and he must have been too enraptured, because Dean was actually looking at him.

“What?” Instead of replying, Dean leant over him, the movement of his fingers speeding up, but he swallowed Castiel’s surprised moan with a kiss, his tongue tracing Castiel’s lips. Castiel let go of Dean’s hand and brought both of his arms up to circle them around Dean’s neck, pulling him down, his legs urging him closer. He felt Dean’s stomach brush against his erection and that alone was surprising. He tended not to get hard, at least not like this, but now every brush of Dean against him sent a spark through him and he couldn’t help clenching down on Dean’s fingers.

“Okay?” Dean asked, after their kisses, Castiel’s loud panting and the squelch of Dean moving his fingers inside of Castiel had been the only sounds in Castiel’s bedroom for a couple of blissful minutes.

Castiel was more than okay, his entire face flushed and the natural lubricant his body produced sparingly easing the movement of Dean’s fingers even more. How odd it was to have such a strong reaction to Dean. Maybe, Castiel mused, it had just been too long and the excitement of having sex with a stranger was turning him on.

Instead of replying, Castiel tugged at the collar of Dean’s shirt and Dean complied wordlessly, taking one of Castiel’s hands and pushing them against his entrance. Castiel inserted four fingers into himself, keeping up the quicker pace Dean had worked with while Dean himself got undressed quickly. Castiel stopped when Dean leant over him again. Dean smiled at him, but next to the flush of arousal gleaming in Dean’s eyes he could see a bit of insecurity, so Castiel arranged himself, taking a moment to look at Dean’s cock which was big and thick, swollen and already glistening with a bit of precome and lube.

“I’m actually surprised by just how into this I am,” Dean whispered, quickly followed by a sharp intake of breath at Castiel took hold of him. He positioned the head of Dean’s cock at his entrance, then wrapped his legs around Dean loosely, keeping himself propped up on his elbows to watch Dean.

“As am I,” Castiel replied with a small smile, then he took a deep breath, the cue Dean needed to put his hands around Castiel’s hips and slowly push in.

It was a tight fit, not that Castiel had expected it to be different, especially not considering how big Dean was, but Dean went deeper and deeper, his hands coming down to wrap themselves around Castiel’s wrists, pushing them down into the covers next to Castiel’s head. If there was pain, Castiel didn’t notice, nodding his head without saying anything at a question Dean hadn’t asked with words. Astonishment had Dean’s eyes wide and his mouth open on a breathy moan.

“Son of a bitch,” he hissed and while that wasn’t quite what Castiel had expected to hear, he gave a small smile and moved his fingers, so that they had their palms pressed together. “Okay,” Dean said, huffing out breath. “Okay,” he repeated, his mouth forming a smile and Castiel was pleasantly surprised at how excited Dean was.

Dean took no more prompting from then on, moving experimentally until he found a rhythm that had Castiel squirming and trying to match a bit clumsily. Dean flashed him a grin even when Castiel made a small embarrassed, disgruntled noise. He was really out of practice, maybe never had been a good lover, but it only took one raise of his eyes and a pleading look and Dean pressed deeper into Castiel, letting go of his hands to grip his thighs instead. The pleasure pain made Castiel flinch, but then Dean was adjusting Castiel’s position and it suddenly felt quite a bit different, even more deep and intense and embarrassingly enough that’s already all it took to push him over the edge he hadn’t even seen coming. He dug his toes into the sheets, gasping loudly as his body shook with his orgasm and the force of Dean’s trusts.

Castiel groaned, pulling his hands through his own hair, before he reached up to drag his fingers through Dean’s. Dean put one of his hands on Castiel’s stomach, slippery by sweat, but he dug his fingers in, carefully, almost possessively. Dazed as he was, Castiel still looked down in confusion, seeing the movement of his body as Dean continued to move in small, but forceful slams, reaching deep and making Castiel feel more open than ever. But then he looked up and found Dean’s eyes on him. Beads of sweat were rolling down Dean’s hairline and collecting in the little dip above his full lips, still open on deep gasps. His entire face was lit by the beautiful flush of their exertion, but the look in his eyes was sharp and clear. Castiel was captivated by the dark intensity and determination there, just staring into Dean’s eyes without blinking. A hiss escaped Dean’s mouth, he screwed his eyes shut and the moment seemed lost to Castiel in the final few pushes. But then Dean opened his eyes again, letting Castiel watch the changes to his face as Dean came.

It hit Castiel then and there how perfect his choice had been and how lucky he was that this man had found him. How many little details it must have taken to bring them together, here in Castiel’s bed. And it hit him just how much would change in his life when Dean gasped for breath, but rubbed his palm against Castiel’s stomach, slow, slow circles of a sweaty palm on sweaty skin.

“Shh,” Dean whispered, kissing Castiel’s cheeks and continued a very slow shifting and pulling within him, almost as if he wanted to ease the stinging burn and the deep ache Castiel felt. “You’re okay?”

“Yes,” Castiel said and breathed deeply, taking in the smell of sweat mingling with the freshness of his recently washed pillow. Dean pulled out, then he dropped to his back next to Castiel, breathing deep and evenly. Castiel tried to match his breathing, shifting slightly to prop his legs up, reaching down to touch the mess threatening to drip out of him. He felt warm all over and couldn’t help the smile that stretched his lips, but he kept silent. If Dean wanted to speak, he would, but right now the silence was enough.

Castiel was tracing circles around his stomach absentmindedly by the time Dean sat up slowly.

“Can I use your shower?” he asked and Castiel turned his head to look up at him. He nodded and started sitting up. “Oh, don’t worry. Just tell me where everything is and I’ll find it myself,” he said with a smile. Castiel still sat up but nodded.

“It’s just down the hall. My niece made a sign for it, so you shouldn’t miss it. The towels are inside. Just use whatever you need.”

“Thanks, man,” Dean said, then he slipped off the bed. Castiel watched him collect his clothes, unsure why his heart was beating a bit faster than it should. Neither was he sure why there was a sinking feeling in his stomach to see Dean go through that door. He listened to him open and close the door and before long there was the sound of the shower running. Castiel was reluctant to get dressed, but maybe he should. Maybe he also should get cleaned up instead of letting the sweat, lube and come dry on his skin.

With a sigh he decided that he’d wash later and reached for his shirt.

\--

When Dean came down the stairs, Castiel was sitting in the living room, an empty cup of tea in his hands.

“Hey,” Dean said and came to stand beside the couch, one hand on the backrest. He pulled his lips into a bit of a shaky grin when Castiel tilted his head at him. “Are you okay?” Castiel nodded after a while. It was a half-truth that had Dean drum his fingers and not say anything.

“Do you want to have dessert?” Castiel asked after a while of looking Dean up and down, expecting something else to come out of his mouth. He set the cup aside and started to get to his feet, but Dean stopped him:

“Ah, as much as I’d love to it’s already late. I guess I should get back to the motel,” he said and Castiel let himself fall back onto the couch. Castiel looked at him in silence and Dean cleared his throat, but didn’t say more. “So…”

“I could wrap up a slice for you,” Castiel suggested and didn’t wait for Dean’s reply to get up this time. He went into the kitchen, his steps rushed before he could change his mind or say something that would make Dean slip out of the house without one glance back. He quickly pulled the towel off the pie his sister- in-law had prepared for him to just put into the oven. It looked wonderful and Castiel felt regret as he cut into the golden, crumbly crust, cutting out a generous piece. The scent of dough, sugar, apples and cinnamon made Castiel sniff. He pulled out a tupperware and put the pie in, adding a fork, then closed the lid and took it back into the living room. Dean was still standing where Castiel had left him and took the offered container with an apologetic smile.

“Thank you,” he said, then Castiel walked with him to the door, opening it for him. “I’ll bring this back to you.”

“That would be nice,” Castiel replied. Dean looked at him, his eyes darting over his face.  Dean gave a nod, then he quirked his lips, lifting the container up with a smile, and he turned around to walk down the stairs.

But he did glance back before he left, the roar of his car’s engine loud in the otherwise quiet night. Castiel watched him leave, then he heaved a sigh and went back inside. He was sure that he had tested his cat’s patience for long enough, there was no point it keeping it locked in his study any longer.

\--

Jimmy had sounded somewhat sympathetic towards Castiel’s mixed feelings, but in the end he had assured him that Castiel had just been lonely for too long. Of course he’d try to latch onto the sense of closeness and care his enigmatic pretty man had bestowed on him. Nothing about Castiel’s reservations about having a relationship had changed by one night of passion. In the bright light of day and to a cup of bad coffee that Eve kept on filling up for him, he could see more clearly.

“You know that once you’re pregnant, you’ll have to reduce your coffee intake, right?” Castiel grumbled in return. It was his luck that Eve did read that particular section of newspapers, so she and about all the other people that were regulars knew about Castiel’s quest to achieve motherhood. Some hadn’t been aware that there was more to him than just being that professor who graded his papers in here, drank too much coffee and had sort of lunch dates with other guys from time to time. “I’ll just get my coffee in another diner if you start refusing to serve it to me,” Castiel said eventually, draining his cup and Eve huffed at him with a dramatic eye-roll. “Besides, it won’t just take one try.”

Eve put her hands on the table, looking down at Castiel.

“Maybe it does,” she said and Castiel averted his eyes, “maybe it _did_ ” Eve corrected and he didn’t need to look up at her to know that there was a smug smirk on her lips. “When will you see him again?”

“I will see him again when it’s obvious that a repetition of yesterday’s activities is necessary,” Castiel said but when he looked up he saw that Eve’s eyes were focused on something else.

“Or now,” she told him cheerfully, then she walked off and Castiel craned his neck to look out of the booth. He heard Eve’s “hi there, what can I get you?” the same time he saw Dean.

He was wearing dress pants and a vest over a button down shirt and he looked, for a lack of better word, absolutely stunning. Castiel knew he should duck his head and hope that Eve wasn’t being pushy about them meeting again, but he couldn’t help staring at Dean. Dean did notice him and a he gave an awkward nod, when Dean looked at him in surprise.

Castiel had believed Dean to get a different seat, or maybe say a quick hi, and that might have been for the best, seeing as Castiel still should have coffee induced clarity of mind. But Dean’s face changed and he sat down in front of him with a grin on his face.

“Hi professor,” he said, “is it fine if I sit here?” Castiel nodded and Dean relaxed, the leather creaking as he adjusted his position. Dean’s foot brushed Castiel’s, but he pulled it back again with a small “sorry”, even though Castiel would have loved to slip out of his dress shoes and draw his toes up Dean’s leg. “I didn’t expect to meet you here!”

“I like the food here,” Castiel replied, tapping the tip of his pen against his lecture notes for tomorrow. They had been prepared for ages and he knew what he wanted to tell his students by heart, but the words and dates were blurring before his eyes with images of soiled bed sheets and the feel of Dean’s come within him. It probably wasn’t the most appropriate thought to be having in someone’s company and he knew that at least Gabriel would pour salt over his food if he dared bring it up.

Dean didn’t seem to feel awkward, at least not in the way he had acted yesterday evening.

“Yeah, I like it too, let’s just hope breakfast is as good as yesterday’s pie,” Dean said, watching Castiel draw his pen down the page. Dean was silent after that, only speaking when Eve handed him his plate.

“Do you have to work?” Dean asked and Castiel looked up at him. Dean’s eyes lit up a little bit at the attention and Castiel feared that he must have given Dean what Gabriel tended to call “the pissy cold shoulder”.

“Yes, I have a lecture course and seminar tomorrow,” he replied, putting both his pen and notes away. Dean hummed, eating his breakfast while Castiel studied him. He wondered if it was unwise to invite Dean over again, he was sure he had better things to do and he didn’t quite want him to feel pressured or like a simple toy to bring Castiel  pleasure (and a baby preferably). Still, what left his mouth when Dean licked some coffee from his lips was a calm: “would you like to visit again?”

Dean looked up from his plate mid-chew and Castiel didn’t look away, even though he could feel his hands getting slightly damp on the table top.

“Yeah, sure,” he replied and Castiel relaxed his hands even though the rest of his posture didn’t change. “I don’t think you already took a pregnancy test?”

“It’s too early for that and according to the plan I’ve received from my gynecologist, the chances for conception are better towards the end of next week,” Castiel told him. Dean smiled, shaking his head.

“You really are well prepared, right?” Castiel didn’t reply to this. “Which means I’ll have to arrange to go out of town before then.” Castiel straightened in his seat, alarmed.

“You have to leave?” he asked, keeping his voice carefully neutral, but he was pretty sure that some of the worry shone through.

“Just for a short while,” Dean assured him gently. “I need to sign a contract for my new office and apartment and maybe start building a network. It’s always important to be well connected if you’re in my kind of business. Or else it’s nearly impossible to start at a new place.”

“Do you have to do that often?” Castiel asked gently, watching Dean’s face carefully just in case his questions were unwelcome. “Starting anew I mean?” Dean didn’t say anything for a while, smiling at something as he looked down into his glass.

“Yeah, I guess,” he said, taking a sip of his coke. “But it’s no big deal, you know how it is. Sometimes things work out and sometimes they don’t.” Castiel kept quiet for a moment, but then he reached out and put his hand on top of Dean’s.

“I hope this works out for you,” he told him, giving his hand a light squeeze. Dean’s eyes widened, looking down at their hands, but then he squeezed back and smiled up at Castiel.

“I hope this,” using his free hand to point a finger at himself, then at Castiel, before he lowered it to the general direction of Castiel’s mid-section, “works out too.” Castiel grinned at that, feeling a comfortable, reassuring warmth spread within him. After looking into Castiel’s eyes for a while even though Castiel must have been grinning sheepishly, Dean let go of Castiel’s hand again.

“So, do you like going to the movies?”

\--

They didn’t end up going to the movies, not strictly speaking. The explosions of some action movie threw the darkened living room into flashes of color as Dean rocked against Castiel, chest pressed tightly against his sweat slick back, hands massaging his chest and occasionally reaching down to give his dick a small squeeze until he had Castiel crying out and coming on the carpet.

Dean apologized afterwards, when Castiel, still naked, started rubbing at the stain, trying to hide the small spark of pride at the little display of debauchery.

“I hadn’t noticed you coming yesterday. I thought maybe you didn’t produce sperm,” Dean told him, then he frowned and lifted his arm. “Sorry, I’m getting sweat all over your armchair,” he apologized.

“Don’t worry about that,” Castiel said, sitting back on his haunches and Dean lowered his head, glancing at Castiel’s body. “And I don’t. I occasionally can be brought to ejaculate, but there’s no sperm in it,” Castiel explained and made an attempt to stand up, but his legs trembled pitifully and lubricant and come threatened to trickle down his leg, so he sat back down. “I didn’t yesterday, by the way.”

“Come?” Dean asked, his head snapping up and his brow furrowed. Castiel had to snicker at that.

“I did come, quite quickly actually. Ejaculate I meant. I usually don’t even get erect when stimulated,” Castiel told him. Dean perked up at the implied praise, grinning brightly.

“But you could have sex with a woman, right?”

“Of course I can, you don’t need to have a fully functioning penis to have sex with women,” Castiel replied with a snort and Dean rubbed his neck. “But so far I haven’t been interested in sexual relations with women.”

“I didn’t think I’d be interested in sex with men either,” Dean said and Castiel shrugged at that. “But I just found you attractive from the get go and I found that I just didn’t have it in me to panic about it. So I like sex with some men after all, no big deal.”

“No, no big deal,” Castiel said and smiled up at Dean.

“You’re cute, professor,” Dean told him and Castiel beamed at that, making Dean unable to resist getting down on the floor with him to kiss him.

It was a bit less awkward to say good-bye to Dean this time and the unease simmering in his gut was eased up just a bit by Dean’s promise to pick him up on Thursday.


	3. Chapter 3

His mom was standing in front of what would be his office with a little bit of luck.

“So I guess your job paid off?” she asked when he got out of the car, but before he could reply she pulled him into a hug, “come here. Hey baby.”

“Hey mom,” he replied, too tired after the long ride to tell her off about the pet names. “And you could say I’m making progress. I’m pretty sure I’ll get paid by the end of the month.” Dean pulled his lip up at one corner, grinning impishly when his mother wrinkled her nose. She knew him well enough to guess that he was doing something questionable (even though it wasn’t, not really).

“If by the end of the month there’ll be a love struck girl serenading you on my front porch, you’d better get ready for a spanking,” she warned sternly, but then her stern face melted and she just laughed, brushing his hair out of his face. “Girls have given you their lunch in exchange for hand holding and little kisses since you were in kindergarten. You little heart breaker.”

“I’m not going to break any hearts,” he promised, then he looked up at the locked door. The building used to be an old pharmacist’s shop, a little but high 19th century brick building perched a bit out of place between a shady looking music shop (not too shabby inside though) and a book shop. The neighborhood wasn’t all that bad, at least not bad enough to scare off potential customers, but not out into the main street either, where it was more likely that some tourists might walk in by accident.

“What are you going to do about the shop floor?” Mary asked, peeking in between the cracks of the boarded up window. He could see the old counter and shelves made of sturdy wood. It actually looked pretty neat. It was a bit of a shame to keep it closed or to tear everything out.   
“I don’t know… The upper level and the back rooms are enough for me. Maybe I’d let someone take it… But first I need to get the money together to rent it and I don’t know if it’ll be gone by the time when I can pay…” Dean looked up at the building a bit mournfully. He really liked this place and its charm and all necessary amenities were in close reach. Mary put her hand on Dean’s arm, then she reached for his palm.

“You’ll do fine. I’m glad that you’re back in Lawrence,” she said and then Dean felt something pressed into his palm. Mary gave his hand a squeeze with both of hers and smiled up at him. Dean looked at her in confusion and then he opened his hand, finding a couple of keys there. He stared at them in incomprehension, then he looked up at Mary to find her smiling.

“I didn’t want my baby leaving again. You know I tend to get lonely,” she told him. “It’s yours.” Dean didn’t know what to say, too touched to form words. So he just pressed his lips together and with his mother’s encouraging nod he put the key into the lock and turned it around.

What greeted him was the dusty, wooden smell of his new home.

\--

Gabriel was tapping his foot restlessly, trying to get more than just a distracted huff from Castiel. Other than the rest of the week, Castiel had not cancelled their meeting for lunch, but having him chew his food silently even though Gabriel asked him a myriad of questions (and could think of a dozen more, each of them a bit more invasive than the last) was rather disgruntling. He knew this was Castiel’s punishment for spreading his announcement in the newspaper, but it had been too hilarious to not share. He hadn’t thought that Castiel was actually serious with these unconventional, slightly ridiculous approaches. He should have been though and of course Castiel was going to be furious.

But even a couple of apologies hadn’t really gotten Castiel to talk in whole sentences to him. The questions were burning on Gabriel’s tongue. Why was his cousin sitting on the low stone wall in front of his faculty building? Why was he nervously bouncing his legs, the heels of his shoes clacking against the floor? Why was he wearing pumps in the first place? Why was there make-up on his face? Why did he wear a navy blue dress?

“You even shaved your legs! You don’t shave your legs!” Gabriel shrieked, feeling for some reason betrayed to not be in the loop. Castiel, the fucker, had the gall to pull his red lips into a smirk, but then he suddenly looked up. Gabriel tried looking for the source of his attention, but only Marv walked past on the other side of the street, carrying a couple of plastic bags and looking as suspiciously uninteresting as ever. Castiel waved at him and for one terrible moment Gabriel feared for Castiel’s sanity and that there had somehow bloomed a lovely romance between the creepy librarian and his seriously sex starved cousin. But Marv walked on and Gabriel let out a breath of relief. Castiel wasn’t all that lucky when it got to choosing a partner and really didn’t need one of those odd, unreliable ones. Again. Last time he had run off to Peru ( _Peru_ , for God’s sake, the guy hadn’t ever travelled further than the next state line) when he got his heart broken. He didn’t want to have to fly to Tibet this time to get him back.

“Just tell me what’s going on,” Gabriel pleaded, but there was the noise of a car approaching which had Castiel get to his feet. Gabriel saw the car pull up in front of them, some old muscle car that gleamed brightly despite the diminishing light of the advancing evening. The door opened to reveal  one hell of a handsome looking guy, impeccably dressed in a form fitting dark suit, hair combed to the side. And he was, Gabriel looked back and forth, actually smiling at Castiel.

“Hey, Cas,” he greeted, looking him up and down, eyes widening slightly but even though Castiel started fussing with the hem of his dress (and when did that ever happen! Castiel was never self-conscious about the way he dressed!) the Hollywood beau smiled appreciatively. “You look amazing.”

“You too,” Castiel replied, taking the final step that sent him into a one armed hug. “I hope you’re hungry.”

“Starving,” the guy said and Gabriel couldn’t help rolling his eyes when he saw the way the guy looked at Castiel, staring into his eyes, his gaze travelling down Castiel’s face to his collarbones peeking out just above the old fashioned cut of his dress’ collar. The guy tore his eyes off and his face was slightly reserved, but still friendly, when he held out his hand to Gabriel. “Hey, I’m Dean.”

“Gabriel,” Gabriel replied cautiously, returning the firm hand shake, easing his face up into a grin. “My, my. Not a date in years and now you.”

“Good night, Gabriel. See you on Monday,” Castiel said gruffly, walking past Dean. Dean shot Gabriel a slightly apologetic look that didn’t seem all that convincing. Then Dean rushed after Castiel, opening the door for him, before getting into the driver seat. Castiel turned his head to catch Gabriel staring and mouthed “assbutt” at him.

“Well,” Gabriel thought to himself, but left it at that. He was pretty sure that this was going to be the soap opera of the year. At least Castiel would be left with a pretty kid.

\--

Castiel had been here once before; a small party of a few of the faculty celebrating Castiel getting his PhD. It wasn’t all that long ago, considering that he started college considerably late, but little seemed to have changed. There were still the polished wood tables set far apart to give privacy, each with a small chandelier hanging from the high ceiling. The waiter guided them past it all, to the table Castiel had booked. It was set next to a window, showing out onto the lively side walk through tinted glasses with white dots forming patterns towards the upper end of the glass pane. It had become a bit less exclusive, a bit less posh in its presentation, but Castiel knew that this was still the place to go when you had something to celebrate that was important enough to spend the required money. Castiel watched Dean look around with his eyes slightly narrowed, an expression that didn’t quite ease up when he was handed his leather bound menu. The waiter looked at Castiel to which he pointed to his chest. He’d promised to pay for any of Dean’s expenses after all and maybe the waiter was slightly appeased by the knowledge that he didn’t have to worry that much about Dean glaring at the prices next to the food with a slightly alarmed crease to his brow. By the time the waiter left Dean had regained his composure.

“Do you eat here regularly?” he asked, the straight line of his shoulders easing up a bit when Castiel shook his head. He couldn’t help smiling to himself; Dean’s reaction did evoke a comfortable spark of pride within his chest. While he rarely spent money, he did enjoy being the one who could spoil his niece with gifts and invite his friends to dinners if he wanted to but usually he indulged in paying for take away for almost all of his meals. At least his degree brought food on his table.

“I think I’d ruin myself if I did. Besides, I’m rather fond of burgers and this is not the best venue for them,” Castiel explained with a smile.

“Man to my heart,” Dean joked, prompting Castiel’s heart to beat just a bit quicker for a while, then he frowned when he turned back to his menu. “There’s not that much money in my line of work. It’s not money you take home at the end of the day. It’s not even something as noble as having helped people, because honestly, this job is frustrating as fuck for most time. But you do save people on occasion.” Castiel smiled, but before he could reply, Dean continued: “In any case, I just mean to say that I have no idea what most of the things on this menu even are.” This got Castiel to snort in amusement and he reached out to turn the pages of Dean’s menu towards the end. “Oh. Well, this I do know!”

“Fancy cuisine aside, the reason I chose this place is for their absolutely delicious steaks and their fries are surprisingly good.” Dean looked up from the menu, grinning at Castiel with a delighted spark in his eyes. Castiel had to take a deep breath before he continued speaking. “I’ll take 73.” Dean’s eyes darted back down onto the parchment, but then he gave a curt nod.

“Yeah, good choice. I’m with you.” Their waiter was over shortly after that, taking back their menus.

“Wine, sir?” Dean looked up, but found the waiter not directing his eyes at Castiel, but at Dean. He shrugged indecisively, looking at Castiel out of the corner of his eyes, raising both eyebrows. The waiter wasn’t deterred and simply turned to Castiel. “Madam?” Castiel shot Dean a look when he snorted.

“I think I’ll just have water. Sparkling.” The waiter nodded, then he looked back at Dean. “And maybe a beer for you, Dean?” Dean’s face lit up and he nodded. The waiter left when Dean reached out for Castiel’s hand, a serious expression on his face all of a sudden, which made Castiel squint at him in confusion.

“You really are a man to my heart,” he said solemnly and Castiel breathed out in relief before he chuckled lightly. “Or maybe you’re at least a man who knows what my body wants.”

“You were able to figure out what mine needed the last two times, so it seemed appropriate to return the favor,” Castiel replied before he could think twice. Dean laughed, the sound  bubbling out of him, and he patted Castiel’s hands, before he retreated his own back to the edge of the table.

“The wine,” Dean started and Castiel looked at him in surprise. Dean lowered his head just slightly, but he didn’t break their eye contact. “Do you think you might already be…?”

“It’s unlikely,” Castiel replied when the decisive word wouldn’t pass Dean’s lips. “But since I don’t know I might as well stop drinking.” Dean nodded pensively.

“That’s good,” he said after a while and Castiel pulled his lips into a smile. “Today, huh?” He asked a bit later, when their drinks had arrived along with salads Dean wasn’t all too stoked about. “Are you nervous?”

“Not particularly,” Castiel said, folding his hands on top of the table. “I’ve thought it through extensively and I feel I’m well prepared for a child.” Dean shook his head just a little bit, but he kept his smile, so Castiel didn’t think there was cause to inquire if there was something Dean didn’t agree with. “I like your dress by the way, though I was a bit surprised to see it on you.” Castiel looked down at this lap and drew his hands over the fabric covering his thighs. “I think I haven’t really grasped you yet.”

“It’s unlikely that you will,” Castiel replied truthfully but then Dean’s brow furrowed and he continued talking: “you don’t need to, Dean. There is no manual to how I work. I’ll correct you and others if I feel the need to. It’s quite easy, I promise.” Dean rubbed his jaw pensively, still with a small frown creasing the skin between his brows. “You didn’t have to try the last two times we met. Why do you worry so much right now?” Dean dropped his hands to the table, interlacing his fingers.

“I don’t know. It’s not that I’m worrying. Not really,” he confessed, but then he leant back in his chair, his hands slipping over the white tablecloth until he could grab the edge of the wood underneath. “It’s silly, but I feel like I should be speaking a different language, but don’t know how to.” Castiel was prevented from an immediate answer by the arrival of their waiter to inquire if they were pleased with their food. Dean quickly dismissed him with a not all too eloquent “yeah, thanks.” The waiter didn’t seem to mind all that much and Castiel watched him leave. He licked his lips before he turned back to Dean.

“How?” He asked and Dean shrugged, pushing tomatoes around his plate. Castiel reached out to put his hand on Dean’s, halting the movement of his fork.

“I can’t really explain it,” Dean told him, letting go of his fork to take Castiel’s hand in his. “But it’s fine. I’ll just take things as they are and if I make mistakes you’ll just correct me, right?”

“Yes, Dean.” Dean leaned a bit over the table, bringing Castiel’s hand closer to his mouth until he could kiss it.

“Too archaic?” Dean wondered with an amused, almost mischievous glint to his eyes. Castiel snorted, shaking his hand.

“No, but I’d appreciate your lips in other places,” he said and leant a bit closer too so that Dean could press his lips to Castiel’s with an almost obnoxiously loud smack. Dean knew his tie was threatening to get into close contact with salad sauce, but it was hard not to kiss Castiel again, when his lips were so smooth and tasted of olives. So he didn’t resist, sitting back in his chair after a second, far more silent kiss.

“If you’d like I can think of some other places to put my lips on. I’m quite curious,” Dean told Castiel. Castiel’s eyes flashed excitedly at the promise and he kind of hoped that their waiter had noticed the tension hanging over their table and would hurry up with their steaks.

\--

Castiel breathed out a sigh of relief as Dean slammed the door shut, the sound of the lock clicking satisfying. Dean didn’t want to wait, grabbing Castiel around the waist to pull him close to his body. “Not in the middle of the hallway,” Castiel told him, seeing his cat raise her head, looking at them disinterestedly from her spot on the couch. Dean laughed into Castiel’s hair and reluctantly let go of him. Castiel stepped out of his shoes and walked up the stairs, Dean following once he had got rid of his own shoes.

Castiel’s bed was freshly made, sheets soft as Dean pushed him into them. He lost no time in climbing over him, the weight of Dean covering him feeling welcome. It was almost like Dean could protect him from things that lurked at the very edges of Castiel’s consciousness. Worries and sadness and dashed hopes and fears of all kinds that Castiel rarely talked about all seemed far away and inconsequential with Dean pushing lips and his tongue against Castiel’s mouth. Dean’s hands squeezed underneath Castiel’s body and Castiel arched off the bed slightly, giving him access to the zipper. Dean pulled it down and shoved the dress down. He didn’t move for a moment when he had tossed the dress over the edge of the bed. Castiel’s heart beat rapidly in his chest as Dean’s eyes travelled over his underwear.

“It’s almost too pretty to take off,” Dean told him and Castiel’s mouth stretched into a smile.

“I got them as a present but haven’t ever worn them,” Castiel told him, his fingers tracing the curve of his flat chest, covered in a midnight blue, lacy bra. “When I was a teenager I used to wear bras a lot, but I got lazy with age. It’s not like I need them.”

“You certainly don’t need it now,” Dean agreed and unfastened the bra, slowly pulling it away before putting his hands over Castiel’s chest, feeling the nipples press against his palms all too eager for attention. Dean’s fingers were careful but insistent, rubbing circles and pinching slightly before bending down to lick them. “Okay?”

“Everything’s okay, just go on,” Castiel urged him, arching his back until Dean bit down, drawing a sigh out of Castiel. He sucked and nibbled until Castiel started squirming, moving his legs so that Dean slipped between them. He moved his hips in gentle circles, breathing heavily whenever Dean ground down on him, the friction almost too much but far from enough. There was an urgent need building inside of Castiel, a vacant space inside of him that itched and tickled and he desperately needed it filled as soon as possible. He dragged his painted nails down Dean’s shoulders, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and pulling at it. Dean obliged, trailing messy, wet kisses up Castiel’s neck until he sat up to pull off his shirt. Castiel pressed his legs together, feeling how his panty clung to his skin, stretched by his swollen cock.

Dean got out of his clothes, then he pushed Castiel up, so he was leaning against the headboard, with his legs propped up as Dean got down. He put his hands on Castiel’s hips, then he lowered his head to kiss Castiel’s soft belly. He pulled off the panties tentatively, kissing the head of Castiel’s cock. The feeling of soft lips pressing against his heated flesh and then slowly wrapping around him had Castiel throw back his head, hissing.

“Cas?”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” Castiel told him, embarrassed at his reaction, so he put his hands on Dean’s head, not quite pushing but he hoped that Dean understood. “That’s the first time…” he trailed off, seeing Dean look at him with his eyes slightly widened. Castiel guessed that he was allowed to be surprised. It’s not like Castiel hadn’t been in a relationship before, but it was just a little bit sad that he only got to feel now how wonderful it was to receive a blow job. Dean seemed to think the same, but it wasn’t pity Castiel saw in Dean’s eyes.

“I’ve never done this, so I guess we’ll see what happens,” Dean told him and Castiel slowly nodded, holding his breath as Dean took him in his mouth again. He wasn’t long or thick and he might have felt a bit more self-conscious how small he was compared to Dean, but Dean could take him all in, wrap his tongue around him and tease him with comfort. So Castiel couldn’t complain at all, equally fascinated by how Dean moved up and down as Dean seemed to be. When he pulled off, but kept his tongue on him, Castiel was fully erect despite his previous belief that this wouldn’t happen when he was at his most fertile.

“Stop, Dean,” Castiel said when Dean made a move to go down again. “Or I’ll come.” Dean raised his eyes and Castiel moaned at how beautiful Dean was, even if it seemed obscene to think that.

“Yes, you’d better,” Dean promised, then he resumed kissing and sucking until Castiel was shivering and the heat inside him reached a boiling point. He came with a high-pitched wail, digging his fingers into Dean’s shoulders, but letting go almost immediately, so Dean could get away. But Dean was content to swallow, licking his lips and smacking them pensively when he sat back up.

“Huh,” was all he said and Castiel wanted to scream, but moaned instead when Dean shuffled backwards a bit, so he could kiss the soft skin beneath his cock, before moving down to the hot slick heat between his legs. He was sensitive, even more than usual, and the first lick against his hole sent a strong, almost painful spark of arousal through him yet again. The need to be filled returned, even as Dean licked and kissed. He wasn’t sure he could wait but he also didn’t want Dean to stop.

“Dean… Dean! Please,” he moaned, shifting his hips and opening his legs a bit more. Dean kissed the soft flesh of the inside of his thigh.

“Yes,” he said, slowly sitting up, planting another soft kiss to Castiel’s knee, right to a yellowing bruise he had gotten from banging his knee a week ago. Castiel reached out, his fingers brushing against the box on his nightstand. He managed to hook his finger inside and pull it close until he could grab the lube. He tossed it to Dean, who quickly uncapped it and poured a generous amount on his fingers. Two fingers went inside easily and Castiel was almost too impatient. He held out though, watching Dean’s fingers slip in and out of his body, carefully stretching with. Castiel closed his eyes, feeling the rubbing and wiggling of Dean’s fingers. “Ready?” Castiel opened his eyes and studied Dean. Dean was watching him, waiting for either encouragement or second thoughts. Castiel shifted, lying back down and lifting his legs high to put them over Dean’s shoulders.

“Please,” he said and Dean pushed inside, a gentle slide that reached deep enough to make Castiel feel whole and complete. He sighed deeply, turning his head into his pillow to just breathe, squeezing around Dean.

“Sweetheart,” Dean whispered and Castiel opened his eyes. Dean was slowly moving his upper body, approaching him. Castiel had done years of ballet as a child and teenager and he still could easily be bent a decade later, something Dean seemed to notice and use to his advantage. He pressed close, putting his mouth against Castiel’s forehead. “I’ll get you your baby.” He playfully licked over Castiel’s sweat slick brow before he kissed the surprised look off Castiel’s face. Castiel lifted his hands to rest them next to his head and Dean immediately reached up to link their fingers. Holding hands and breathing close to each other’s mouths, Dean started to move, slow and steady. He never sped up, he never stopped kissing, his movements satisfying in their gentleness, his pace so easy for Castiel to match. Castiel almost didn’t notice when Dean came, if Dean hadn’t chosen that moment to let go of Castiel’s hands to grab his cheeks and kiss and kiss with a ferocity that his hips didn’t match, even though the thrusts were shorter and just a bit quicker than before. When he finally stilled Castiel was out of breath and sated. When Dean pulled out of him, he didn’t leave to get a shower again, this time he pulled Castiel close, spooning him and gently rubbing over his belly again.

“Good luck,” he mumbled after a few minutes and before Castiel could ask Dean what he meant, he felt deep, even breathing ruffle the soft hair on Castiel’s neck. Castiel looked over his shoulder in surprise, finding Dean’s face relaxed, mouth slightly open. Castiel smiled and got comfortable, letting the air dry their sweaty bodies. It was nice, so, so wonderfully nice, to fall asleep with someone holding him.

\--

Castiel woke up to the bed creaking. He slowly reached up to wipe his hair out of his eyes. He turned slightly, thinking maybe Woll had come to pester him. He felt a light breeze and the air was crisp and fresh, but there was no cat to press her wet nose against his cheek.

“Hey.” Castiel opened his eyes immediately and sat up, finding Dean sheepishly pulling up his boxer shorts. For a moment Castiel was too surprised to say something, but then he relaxed, huffing. Dean grinned at him. “Sorry, did you think I’d be gone?”

“Evidently,” Castiel replied grouchily. It was too early in the morning for him to display any sense of grace, especially not inside his bedroom. “What time is it?”

“Shortly after 7. You said you don’t have classes today…” Castiel nodded slowly, watching Dean cover more and more of his skin with an odd sense of loss. Still horny then, Castiel mused, scratching his head, then wiping his face in an attempt to rub some life into himself. “You can go back to sleep if you want. I’ll see myself out.” That caused Castiel to stop rubbing his face and slowly look up at Dean. The pitiful drop of his stomach caused his mouth to pull down at the corners and he sighed in silent acceptance. Dean didn’t say anything for a moment, biting his lips, but then he seemed to give in. He pulled the zipper up and walked over to Castiel, sitting down and putting his hand into Castiel’s ruffled hair. “Okay… I can make breakfast if you want.” Castiel turned his head slightly, enjoying the feeling of Dean petting him.

“I should make it for you,” Castiel protested after a while, “give me a moment and I’ll be up.” Dean withdrew his hand, chuckling slightly.

“It’s fine, Cas. If you allow me to rummage around your fridge I’ll find us something.” Castiel fidgeted slightly, not meeting Dean’s eye. “What? Don’t tell me you’ve got an empty fridge?”

“I usually cycle to the bakery to get bread and buns on my free mornings… I’m not much of a morning person,” Castiel confessed. Dean’s laughter added to Castiel’s embarrassment, but the sound of it, deep and rich, was too beautiful to ask Dean to knock it off.

“Okay, either you get dressed and we’ll get something at the bakery or you’ll get some more shut eye and there’ll be breakfast when you’re up.” Castiel refrained from answering and chose to get up instead. Even if it meant facing the morning, he actually wanted to prolong the time he spent with Dean. Dean left the room while Castiel got dressed and he found him sitting on the porch a few minutes later. Dean looked up at him, the early morning sun making his eyes shine a clear, luminous green. “Do you wanna walk?”

“Yes.”

The morning was still cool, dew covering grass and plants lining the side walk. The neighborhood was quiet, it being mostly made up of old people and young families with children that had not yet reached school age.

“What are you going to do now?” Castiel wondered after a while, rubbing his upper arms, because the morning proved to be chillier than anticipated. He only wore a light woolen sweater over yesterday’s dress and goose bumps were rising on his arms and bare legs.

“What? Oh… I guess I’ll stay here for a while, until you’re the proud owner of a positive pregnancy test,” Dean said with a cheery grin. “But I’ve got things to do.”

“Things?” Castiel wondered, “for your job?”

“Yes… I’ve got an office and a place to stay now. Permanent, I hope,” he explained and Castiel marveled at Dean’s shy, but proud smile. He looked young and hopeful, but a tad vulnerable with his collar pulled up and his hands deeply tugged into the pockets of his jacket.

“You haven’t had one in a while,” Castiel guessed, watching Dean shrug. “How come?” Castiel thought Dean wasn’t going to answer and he was content to leave it at that, but Dean did turn his head slightly, looking at Castiel.

“It’s been really difficult getting my footing… I’ve been travelling with my dad for a bit, but found that it doesn’t work. I went to my Mom’s place to work as a mechanic, but it just wasn’t what I…” Dean stopped and sighed. “What I felt I needed to do, you know?”

“Yes,” Castiel replied slowly, turning his eyes on the sidewalk, the heavy steps of Dean’s boots and the clacking of his heels the only sound between them for the moment.

“So I left. I’m pretty sure my Mom’s still sore about that. But I got to Cicero by chance and met an old flame there. She has a kid, nice boy.” Dean stopped again and Castiel couldn’t help looking at him. Dean’s mouth was pressed into a thin line, white around the edges, and his eyes were narrowed. “I lived with them for a while, tried to establish myself there. It did work at first, but my job’s demanding. I’ve been staying out for long, got easy to irritate and came home with a few injuries from time to time. It wasn’t really the kind of role model she wanted for her boy and it also wasn’t the kind of guy I wanted to be. So she kicked me out and I was too tired, too ashamed to try fight for them.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel said, reaching out to put his hand on Dean’s back. Dean reacted by reaching out as well, pulling Castiel close to him to place a kiss on his cheek.

“And now I’m here.”

“I’m glad you’re here,” Castiel replied, leaning against Dean.

“ _I’m_ glad you’re a bit of a weirdo,” Dean said and Castiel looked up at him, slightly affronted.

“Weirdo?”

“Just a little bit,” he said, kissing Castiel again, his grin pressed against Castiel’s pout.

\--

Jam, butter and crispy croissants weren’t exactly what Dean was used to, but sitting out on Castiel’s back porch with coffee and plates balanced on their thighs was arguably quite nice. Castiel’s cat was sitting in the high grass, the ashy brown form of her immobile as she watched birds fluttering about a small, lopsided house on a pole.

“She’s too lazy to do anything about the birds, but she likes to pretend that she’s got the yard and bird population under control,” Castiel told him, taking a few gulps of coffee and looking more spirited with each. It was funny to watch the bleary look and squinty eyes lighten up as the time progressed and Castiel running his hand through his hair, turning it from an endearing mop to something a bit more flat and less chaotic.

“She’s cute I guess,” Dean said and he was probably positively inclined towards her by the fact that Wollstonecraft hadn’t scratched, hissed or bitten him. Dean looked over the spacious back yard with the grass growing high and wild flowers blooming on the lawn. There were a couple of trees lining the backyard, providing shade to the bench and table underneath. There were high wooden fences, the paint peeling off but Dean could see that they’d been white once with smears of colors here and there. There was a seed bed, but Dean only saw dark soil and some poor green bits sticking out.

“I don’t… I don’t usually have the time to do any gardening,” Castiel said, having followed the progress of Dean’s inspection. “It used to look nice, but my friend who helps me in the garden is on a world trip.”

“World trip?” Dean asked with a snort, trying to imagine a guy or girl with a backpack hiking through the wilderness and sleeping under the stars with their hair flowing free.

“Yes. She tends to do that a lot, pack her things and go somewhere I mean. After I had met her she decided that it would get me over my self-pitying if I went to the Amazonian rainforest, but when I got home after 3 months I decided I was better suited for an uneventful life in the suburbs. So I went to college and have been there ever since.”

“Well, some like it more quiet,” Dean told him with a smile to which Castiel just hummed pensively. The question what it had been to get Castiel into a pit of self-pity burned on the tip of his tongue, but before he could make up his mind to ask about it, the sound of the telephone ringing came from the inside. Castiel sighed and set his plate aside.

“Sorry, I have to get that,” he said with some annoyance, “there’s still coffee in the kitchen.” Castiel put his hand on Dean’s shoulder when he got up and Dean took the chance that provided itself and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s hip when he passed him. Castiel quirked his eyebrows at Dean with a small smile that made Dean wonder if maybe he shouldn’t just stay a little while longer. But it was getting late and he couldn’t just sit around. He might as well check out if there was anything useful to do. Building a network in the adjacent state probably wasn’t such a bad idea after all, even if he was an 8 hour drive away from what he now considered his turf. Dean gathered the empty plates and coffee mugs then he went inside, finding Cas sitting on the kitchen island, a phone on a long cord in his hand. Castiel smiled at him, mouthing his thanks as Dean put everything into the sink.

“No… No, Chuck. I can drive you to your agent. I don’t know if I’ll stay for the book signing though, I don’t really feel like doing small talk with your circle of friends…” Dean could hear a tinny, stuttering voice on the other side of the line, but it wasn’t clear enough to hear the words and Dean wasn’t supposed to be all that nosy either, so he started filling water into the sink to do the dishes. Castiel however reached out his hand.

“Oh, Dean, you don’t have to do this, just leave it,” he said but Dean just chuckled and Castiel’s further protests got lost in the phone call. “Dean.” Dean looked over his shoulder but it seemed Castiel wasn’t talking to him anymore. “You know I don’t have a boyfriend, you ask me every time we meet. Stop being so invested in my love life, I don’t ask you either.” Castiel snorted. “What has… What has toilet paper got to do with anything? Why do you have to bring this up again? I’m _sorry_ I forgot the toilet paper, can we just- Yes, okay. Fine. See you tomorrow. Bye.” Dean heard Castiel put the receiver back into its place on the wall.

“So you’ve got a date tomorrow?” Dean asked when Castiel was beside him, starting to towel the dishes.

“I wouldn’t call it a date. His girlfriend is out of town, so I have to drive him around,” Castiel explained, then he looked over at Dean. “What will you be doing?”

“Oh, I guess I’ll head back to the hotel afterwards. I’m sure there’s work to do. I’m a bit too lazy to do the drive back home yet again,” he said and Castiel nodded silently.

“Make sure you get a receipt from the hotel, I need to know what I owe you,” Castiel told him after a while and Dean shrugged. Castiel opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and walked into the living room. “I’ve got baby-sitting duty later today.”

“Okay, I’ll get my stuff and then I’m gone,” Dean called after him, to which he only got a grunt. Dean looked into the living room as he passed it, seeing Castiel busying himself with the shelf holding his movies. Dean rushed up the stairs to gather the things he’d left and quickly made Castiel’s bed before he headed back down. Castiel was standing at the door, holding it open for him and Dean walked straight up to him, crowding Castiel against the wall and capturing his lips into a kiss. Castiel had lost the advantage his heels had given him and had to crane his head up now to give Dean better access to his mouth. He moaned silently when Dean started sucking a bruise into his neck, low enough so that it could be covered with a shirt collar. Dean put a light kiss to the reddened skin.

“See you later, Cas. Just give me a call when you feel like it,” he said, brushing his thumb over Castiel’s spit-slickened lips.

“I will. Good bye, Dean.” Dean felt a bit of regret getting into his car, but there was totally no point in getting too worked up. He didn’t have to make this into something it was not. _No relationship expected_ , he had it black on white, tugged into his journal. And that was the good thing, just what Dean needed. No relationship, but a warm, gentle body to turn to when he got lonely and missed what he had foolishly run away from.


	4. Chapter 4

In the following days Castiel got to see quite a bit of Dean, who was just a phone call away when Castiel felt like he needed companionship. It was silly, Castiel knew that, to start using Dean as a remedy for his loneliness that not even his friends could soothe. Gabriel continued teasing him about his new boyfriend and Castiel started getting more irritated each time he used it. Boyfriend. It wasn’t something he required. Not at all. He was done needing a boyfriend with the kind of desperation he had needed him before and after his last break up. He didn’t need Dean, not once their business transaction has come to a close.

Castiel closed his laptop and bid the secretary good-bye in passing.

“Oh, Emmanuel,” she called and Castiel turned back around, slinging his bag a bit more comfortably over his shoulder. “There’s a man waiting for you. He said he didn’t want to disturb you so I didn’t tell you. He’s waiting for you at the diner. He said you’d know which one.” Castiel raised his eyebrow in surprise, pulling out his mobile phone but he knew that there were no new messages. Rarely anybody but Dean bothered to text him because Castiel was notoriously bad when it got to texting back.

“Thank you, Nancy,” Castiel muttered absent-mindedly, confused as to why Dean hadn’t just called. He rushed out of the building, gripped his bike and made the short drive to the diner in record time. Dean was sitting in his usual spot and he looked up with an apologetic smile when he heard Castiel arrive. He had a large bouquet of sunflowers for him, but Castiel’s eyes were fixed on the cut on his forehead and the bruise on his cheek.

Dean hissed when Castiel put his hands on his face, carefully examining the wounds. They weren’t too deep but even when Dean raised his arms to embrace Cas and press a quick kiss to his cheek, his movements were slow and pained.

“What happened? You’ve been gone less than two days and you come back with bruises all over?”

“I’m sorry. Sorry, Cas,” he said silently, fidgeting with the flowers.

“What happened?” Castiel asked, but Dean just shrugged. “I’ll take you home. I think you need to lie down a bit and those flowers have to go in a vase.” Dean gratefully took Castiel’s hand and let himself be pulled to his feet. Eve came to lend a hand in getting Dean back into his car. The car was still in pristine shape, so there probably was no traffic accident involved in Dean’s sorry state. There was blood on the upholstery in the back, only a few small droplets though.

“If you wreck my baby, so help me God,” Dean warned as Castiel got behind the wheel and Dean took the ice wrapped in a towel from Eve, holding it against the cut.

“Shut up, Dean,” Castiel growled, waving at Eve as he pulled out of the parking space. Dean complained about his slow driving all the way to Castiel’s house, shouting in alarm as Castiel got a bit too close to the garage door.

“I know how to drive a car, you assbutt,” Castiel snorted, helping Dean out but letting him walk up the door on his own and taking the flowers. Instead of guiding Dean to his bedroom he opened the guest room door on the ground floor. He put the flowers in a vase in the kitchen and when he got back to the guest room Dean was lying face first on the queen sized bed. Castiel deemed him fine enough to be left alone for a minute and went to get the first aid kit from the en-suite bathroom. He forced Dean to take off his clothes. He was glad there were only a few already purpling bruises on his arms and back, but nothing seemed severely damaged. The wound on his forehead had already been treated and even though it looked nasty, Castiel could see that it was already starting to scab. Castiel still cleaned it again, then he put some salve on his bruises, leaving Dean sticky and complaining about the bad smell.

“You’re not going to talk about what happened?” Castiel wondered, gently brushing his palm over Dean’s cheek. Dean opened his eyes and Castiel remained silent, simply looking down at Dean’s calm, unblinking face.

“A ghost beat me up when I tried to burn his bones,” he said eventually and Castiel rolled his eyes. “Come here.” Dean put one hand in the back of Castiel’s neck and pulled him down, kissing him gently. “I’m sorry.”

“Next time you should call me right away instead of going off to buy flowers,” Castiel told him and Dean breathed in and out loudly, a relieved sigh that made his chest rise. Castiel snuggled up to Dean, gently rubbing his fingers over Dean’s chest.

“Yeah. Thanks, sweetheart.” Castiel closed his eyes to the calming sound of Dean’s breathing.

\--

“I don’t think it’s a good idea to date a thug, Cas.” Castiel frowned at the clothes rack in front of him, tugging at the hangers with a bit more force than necessary.

“Dean’s not a thug and what we’re doing isn’t necessarily dating,” he said, grabbing a shirt and adding it to the pile Gabriel was carrying for him

“Yes, you’re just having amazing amounts of unprotected sex,” his cousin said, not bothering to lower his voice, turning more than just one head in their direction.

“That’s what you do if you want to have a baby,” Castiel told him, making Gabriel follow him to the till.

“You haven’t been lucky yet?” Gabriel wondered and Castiel slowly turned to look over his shoulder. “Have you taken a test?”

“No. It’s only been two weeks,” he hissed through is teeth, clearly uncomfortable to be having this conversation in front of strangers. He actually didn’t want to be having this conversation with anyone, but he thought that he at least owed Gabriel an explanation why he’d dragged him into one of his panicky shopping trips.

“That’s long enough to check,” Gabriel reminded him, but Castiel refrained from answering, taking the huge bag filled to the brim with skirts and shorts and panties. He’d probably crawl back to the mall with his tail tugged between his legs, shamefully handing back the things he hadn’t even tried on and probably would look hideous on him anyway. There was something cathartic about it though, to just shop his nervousness away. At least it was better than the one time he screamed so long that he had been hoarse for the next two days.

“But seriously, Cas… Dean looks great, I give you that, but if he comes home with bruises and won’t say where he got them from… Well… I don’t know if this is the kind of guy you want to involve yourself with,” Gabriel said when he had Castiel back in his car holding his new backpack against his chest almost reverently.

“I’m not-“ Gabriel turned around, glaring at Castiel, worry etched into his face. Castiel shut up immediately, pressing his lips together in irritation.

“You want this man’s child, Cas. And I get it. I really do. You’re desperate. Ever since your ex dumped you, you’ve been desperate for something or another. But maybe you should be more careful. Dean’s what? 26?”

“29,” Castiel corrected him quietly.

“29. Okay. He’s a young, beautiful guy and you’re having lots of bombastic sex. But he obviously is doing things that are worrisome. Maybe he drinks, maybe he beats other people up, maybe he’s a criminal. Point is, you have no idea. And while I don’t think that his character is messing up his DNA, he might as well not leave you alone when you want to make the clean cut.” Castiel didn’t say anything and Gabriel chose to let him stew in what he’d told him for a while, driving him back home in tense silence. “You want to make a clean cut, don’t you?”

“Of course. We’re not preparing to have a relationship,” Castiel admitted reluctantly. Gabriel nodded.

“Good. Just be careful, okay.” He pulled Castiel close and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll beat up the people that hurt you this time.”

“Don’t. You’re a lousy fighter,” Castiel told him, slightly appalled, but Gabriel slapped his thigh and Castiel was out of the car. Gabriel saw Dean’s Impala in the driveway and frowned when Castiel’s thoughtful face immediately lit up when he saw Dean sitting on the porch, waving. “Thanks for accompanying me, Gabriel.” Gabriel just nodded silently, watching Dean approach Castiel, talking and smiling broadly. Dean peeked into the big bag when Castiel held it open, laughing before he took it off Castiel and pressed a kiss to his lips.

It was odd, Gabriel decided, and just a little bit painful to watch Castiel so energetic and happy about something as temporal and uncertain as this fling with Dean. But Castiel was an adult, there was nothing Gabriel could do but watch and hope for the best.

He drove off when Dean and Castiel were inside, only having eyes for each other.

\--

Only when they had eaten dinner and they were comfortable and sated, did Castiel dare to bring up the topic that he had avoided.

“It’s been… a while,” Castiel said, definitely not the most elegant way to breech the subject. Dean cracked one eye open, shifting his hips slightly, getting himself aligned with Castiel, who had been straddling him on the couch for quite a while, similarly to how Dean had him bounce on top of him not two hours ago. “I have the test upstairs…” The puzzled expression on Dean’s face cleared up immediately and he sat up, slowly shifting Castiel so he still had him in his lap.

“Okay. Do you want me to come with you?” Castiel nodded and climbed off Dean’s lap, making his way upstairs almost stiffly. His heart was hammering against his ribcage and he felt his pulse in his neck and a heaviness in his stomach. Dean was there when he opened the test and he waited patiently in front of the door until Castiel came out with the announcement that they had to wait. Dean put his hands on Castiel’s upper arms, rubbing some warmth into them even though Castiel felt hot all over. Castiel was silent because he was sure only inconsequential babble would spew out of his mouth when he was this nervous. He was unsure if he wanted it to come back positive. He really did want this baby, he wanted it with so much longing that he felt uneasy just thinking about how empty his arms were. But there was Dean. Dean who would maybe kiss him, but then go out through the door, driving his car out of sight. This thought of an impending loss shouldn’t upset Castiel,  but his emotions were running wild and thinking about Dean leaving made him turn towards the man standing behind him, pressing his forehead against his chest.

“Shh. It’s okay. No matter what it says it’ll be okay, Cas.” Castiel nodded slowly, sucking in composure with deep, even breaths. He checked his watch and pushed himself away from Dean, into the bathroom and took the pregnancy test.

“Nothing,” Castiel said after so long that Dean had started fidgeting behind him, his hands brushing Castiel’s hips.

“Let me see that,” Dean said and Castiel held up the test. Dean’s eyebrows raised and he checked the package to read what exactly he should be seeing if Castiel was expecting. “Yes… Sorry, Cas…” Castiel was surprised despite himself, shaking the stick but when nothing changed about the sign he chucked it into the waste bin. “Baby.”

“I’m fine,” Castiel said, turning around to smile up at Dean, his hands a bit shaky and his heartbeat still far too frantic. Dean looked at him with his brows drawn up, he seemed sorry, but not necessarily disheartened. “Do you want to continue trying?”

“Of course, Dean.” Castiel took Dean’s hands, giving them a gentle squeeze before he put them on his hips, pulling himself closer to Dean until their bodies were pressed against each other.

“Good. Then we can.” Dean lowered his head until his forehead was resting against Castiel’s.

“I’d like you to stay,” Castiel said and Dean immediately lifted his head to stare at Castiel. “If you want you can check out of your hotel and move into my spare room.” Dean laughed and Castiel wondered if he had been too forward. “I’m sorry… It’s just that I’m in my mid-thirties and it might take a while for me to-“

“It’s okay, Cas. Seriously. If it turns out to be too odd I’ll just move back to the motel,” Dean interrupted him, with his hand raised to stop Castiel’s babbling. Castiel shut up and nodded sharply. Dean squeezed Castiel’s hips until he saw blue eyes shyly rising to meet his. “Just give me a list of do’s and don’ts and I promise I’ll be a decent roommate.” Castiel pulled up his lips into a smile and he nodded. Castiel pulled Dean into his arms and the pregnancy test in the waste bin was forgotten.

\--

Living with Dean was comfortable, more than Castiel would have guessed, considering that he usually felt shy within his own house when he had strangers over. They had arranged themselves well though, from who did the grocery shopping, the dinner and the cleaning to which places were off-limit for Woll (but Dean was pretty lenient about the cat, he just didn’t want her in his room, or anywhere Dean and Castiel were having sex).

Castiel wasn’t all that sure what Dean was doing whenever Castiel was working and he didn’t go bother Dean when he had his door shut. Dean came and went as he pleased, but he always let Castiel know about it, even though he wasn’t all that helpful with telling him where he went or what he planned on doing. Whenever Dean was gone for longer than a day he’d come back with flowers and very rarely bruises Castiel knew better than to ask about.

“Dude.” Dean’s voice rang through the corridor and Castiel poked his head out of the door to his office, seeing Dean come up the stairs with grass stains all over his jeans. “You’ve actually got a lawn, congratulations,” he said. Castiel rolled his eyes and opened the door to his office enough for Woll to slip out and Dean to come in.

“And you’ve become one with nature,” Castiel chided, pulling blades of grass out of Dean’s hair, made spikier by sweat and lighter by the sun. Dean just shrugged, pulling at the hem of his shirt to wipe at his face. Castiel brushed his fingertips against the strip of exposed belly, causing Dean to jump, almost falling back into the shelves behind him. Castiel chuckled at the affronted glare sent his way and Dean pulled the shirt back down with an embarrassed huff. Castiel walked across the room to where the window was. He opened it wide, chasing away the smell of books and freshly printed paper, breathing in deeply. The air was cool, fragrant of grass and rain. The garden looked presentable, the grass cut short now and the fence re-painted.

“Daphne will be disappointed. You’ve done all her work,” Castiel said and Dean stepped next to him, his form solid and giving off waves of heat. He smelled wonderful and Castiel couldn’t resist pushing his lips against Dean’s jaw.

“That’s the world traveler?” Castiel nodded. “Well… there’s still lots to do, it’s not like I did more than cut down the wilderness a bit.” He let go of Castiel who returned to his seat at his desk. Dean had never been inside his office and usually Castiel kept everyone out of it, especially if he was working, but right now he wasn’t doing more than looking at mails and reading some entries on a pregnancy blog. It probably was too early to think about ordering maternity wear, but he liked looking at the pictures. He only looked back up when he heard Dean make a surprised sound.

Dean was standing in front of the shelf where Castiel kept all sort of knick-knacks. Pictures of Jimmy that his brother wished didn’t exist, a lock of Claire’s hair, a print of her little hand in a colorful frame and many more things holding dear memories. But Dean wasn’t looking at any of them. He had a small black box in his hand and an alarmed heat shot through Castiel as Dean opened it.

“Engagement?” Dean asked, his voice sounding slightly off, like his mouth was too dry to speak, but he still forced himself to. Castiel leant back in his chair with a sigh, his palms slightly sweaty and feeling his pulse race in his neck. He calmed himself down with a deep breath.

“Marriage,” he corrected and watched how Dean’s eyes were stuck on the ring inside the box. He carefully closed the box again, putting it in its rightful place between a picture of his parents and an old diary.

“Sorry,” Dean mumbled, but now that the initial shock about the unexpected reveal was over, Castiel didn’t actually mind Dean knowing about it. “I shouldn’t have gone through your things.”

“It’s okay,” Castiel said, getting up to lean against the edge of his table instead, putting himself closer to Dean. Dean still looked slightly embarrassed, but there was also a flash of something else in his eyes, his shoulders squared almost in anger. Castiel wondered if he was enraged that Castiel hadn’t thought to tell him something as irrelevant or if it was by some chance jealousy that made Dean purse his lips, glaring at the floor. The thought that Dean’s eyes looking him up and down were darkened by a sudden possessive urge made Castiel feel light-headed and foolish.

“I was whining to you about my failed relationship while you’ve actually gone through with the entire commitment thing.”

“I don’t know. Commitment has been the one thing that didn’t end up working between us,” Castiel told him. “At least we didn’t agree on what the point of marriage was.” Dean’s expression had turned from something unreadable to curiosity. He held back on asking though because he must have seen the reluctance of Castiel to delve into the topic of his failed marriage. Castiel rarely talked about it to anyone, but here was Dean, who had studied his body in the almost two months they had known each other but knew nothing else beyond that, and Castiel wanted to sit down and tell him how much it still hurt at times. How he felt the ring still on his finger, how he couldn’t help being angry at times and sorely disappointed at others. Dean didn’t press him towards anything though.

“Hey, it’s getting late. Do you want a burger for dinner?” And that was the end of the conversation, at least for the moment.

\--

It wasn’t until much later that Castiel knocked on Dean’s half open door and entered without waiting for an answer. Dean was already lying on his belly turning away from the book he was reading to look over his shoulder.

“Oh, wait, I have no lube in-“ Castiel lifted a hand and Dean stopped mid-sentence, sitting up properly. Castiel walked over to him, sitting down next to Dean. “We’re not having sex I assume.” Castiel shrugged. “What’s up, Cas?”

“I got married to my first boyfriend,” Castiel started and Dean looked at him, surprised. Castiel took a deep breath and lowered his eyes to stare at the carpet between his toes. “The moment we were old enough we did it. My parents weren’t all that thrilled even though they had always supported me doing whatever I wanted, and my siblings, at least most of them, tried to talk me out of it. But I was stubborn and so in love with the idea of being a wife that I never stopped to think about alternatives.“ Dean didn’t say anything and Castiel was glad to be given enough silence to fill it with memories. “We were 18 and stupid. At least I was stupid. But I was happy. He went on to college, we moved away from my family and I found work with a florist, who allowed me to take care of some of the administrative work. But most of the time I was home, waiting for my husband to come back.”

“What caused the marriage to fail?” Dean wondered when Castiel had fallen quiet in the reliving of old memories and shame.

“Well…” Castiel shrugged. “I think there were a lot of reasons and we were struggling with each other for longer than I had allowed myself to admit. So when I brought up my wish to have children he told me no. Even though he probably cushioned his refusal in nicer platitudes, I had to realize that for him children had never been an option, not with me. I was devastated and ran away. But I had nothing. No car, no money but my last paycheck, no support because I was utterly ashamed,” Castiel huffed, tilting his head slightly to look at Dean. “I was 21 and stuck in a crisis. I was apparently unsuited to be a wife and even more unsuited to be a mother. It was really stupid, to reduce my own valor to those two things. I wandered about aimlessly for a while until my friend – Daphne – found me and talked some sense into me.”

“And dragged you to the jungle,” Dean added, teasing a silent, hesitating chuckle out of Castiel.

“Yes. I think it was supposed to lure out my more savage, independent side. But it was good. Somehow it was good. I don’t know why I decided to change. I decided that if there were two sides to me, then why couldn’t I just change? Forget meek Cas, become Emmanuel again. And I went to college, got myself informed, got myself interested. Then there were degrees and diplomas and no more relationships. No men, no sex, _definitely_ no babies.”

“So you just… went from being a woman to being a guy?” Dean wondered, taking in the slightly hunched form of Castiel.

“Basically, but that’s not who I am today. It was a knee-jerk reaction, some sort of defense mechanism. After all, being a man is easier. I’m not saying it’s _easy_. But it’s easier.” Dean didn’t say anything and the silence was grating on Castiel’s nerves now. He wasn’t sure what kind of reaction he’d expected from Dean or which kind of reaction he had actually desired. When he turned his head to look though, Dean was smiling at him.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I don’t know,” Dean said, then he made a grab for Castiel’s arm and pulled him down on the bed with him, wrapping him up in his arms. “Sorry about your marriage, your ex is a dick.” Castiel laughed and put his arms around Dean as well, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt under his finger tips and brushing against his cheek where it was pressed against Dean’s chest.

“He was… I didn’t have sex since then,” Castiel muttered and Dean made a sort of choked, surprised mewl. It was a pretty undignified sound, but Castiel let it slide.

“You do know how to give one hell of a blow job though, Cas,” Dean said after a while and Castiel was able to feel his laughter in his chest and belly.

“I think I just like your penis,” Castiel dead-panned and while it made Dean squirm a little bit at the unexpected, odd praise, he did laugh and kiss the top of Castiel’s head. “I like everything about you.”

“You don’t know that,” Dean muttered into his hair, taking a slow, deep breath that sounded weary to Cas’ ears. Castiel lifted his head off Dean’s chest, but then he raised himself, Dean having to let go of him. Slowly and carefully, Castiel brought his face closer to Dean’s, draping his body over the one beneath him. Dean’s eyes were wide and almost fearful.

“Whoever you are beyond the things you are comfortable showing me…” He put his palms on Dean’s face, then he covered Dean’s mouth with his own. Dean breathed out through his nose, a loud puff of air followed by a moan. He wrapped his arms around Castiel’s body, holding on tight.

Castiel fell asleep in Dean’s room that night.

\--

It was getting warmer each day, the spring having slowly but surely transited into summer. The flowers in Castiel’s garden were splashes of color that swayed between the high stalks of grass and bushes that neither he nor Dean cared about cutting down. Castiel was pulling at the leaves of the small rhododendron bush that Daphne had helped him plant a couple of years ago. It had never grown properly and this year only a handful of flowers had bloomed, looking small with their faded red petals. He still kept hoping for them to bloom, just like the flowers in his childhood home had, fostered by the careful hands of his parents.

“I think I’m just no good as a gardener,” he mumbled, when he heard Dean approach.

“Maybe next year,” Dean assured him, pulling him closer by hooking a finger through his belt loop and pressing a kiss to his temple. “You should go inside, you’re getting a sunburn.” Castiel only hummed, still rubbing the spotted leaves between his fingertips. “I’ll get you a hat,” Dean said, kissing him, then he let go to go inside. Castiel lowered his eyes to the soil in the spotty shade of the plant. He dug his toe into the earth. It was wet from where Dean had watered his plants earlier. It felt comfortable and soothing. He wished that he could just plant his feet into the earth and take root and prosper. Casting his protective shade over the things that grew next to him. He was called out of his small reverie by the sound of the phone carrying through the open window of his dining room. It stopped when Castiel had mustered the energy to pull his feet free. Dean poked his head through the door just when Castiel had walked up the steps to the porch.

“Everything okay?” he asked, slightly worried to see Castiel huffing, wiping sweat from his brow. “I told you. It’s hot outside, Cas.” Even though Castiel came inside Dean put his straw hat on top of his head.

“There should be iced tea in the fridge,” Castiel said, pulling the hat off to wave air against his face. He pulled the door close so that no more heat would get into the house. “Did someone call?”

“Yeah. Sorry, I picked up the phone,” Dean told him, with a small embarrassed smile. Castiel just shrugged and took the offered iced tea, enjoying the chilly drink. “It was your niece. She needed a ride because her bike tire is busted. I’ll go pick her up, I’ve got my car in front of your garage.”

“Oh, you don’t have to, I’m sure she can wait the two minutes it takes to drive your car out of the way,” Castiel said, putting the glass down. Dean grinned at him.

“Maybe, but no offence, Cas. My car’s just way more impressive than yours,” he said, reaching out to place his hands on Castiel’s hips, stepping close to him to press a kiss to his lips.

“My car’s just fine,” Castiel snorted, but pursed his lips for another kiss, a loud smack in his cool kitchen. “You just want to impress Claire.”

“True. But I’m not the one driving a dirt colored Mini,” Dean said, dragging his mouth across Castiel’s lips, licking the corner, before he reached Castiel’s cheek, gently grazing the soft skin there with his teeth.

“It’s not-“ Castiel sighed, “fine. I need you out of the way anyway.”

“As if it took such a great effort to put left-overs from yesterday’s delicious dinner – which I cooked by the way because you managed to mess up canned raviolis - into the oven,” Dean joked, earning himself a slap on the ass. “Okay! I’m out!” He left the kitchen and soon Castiel could hear the clicking of the door and the already familiar rumble of the impala’s engine.

Castiel pulled the fridge open, taking yesterday’s noodles with the chicken out. While he prepared the gratin and the tomatoes for the salad, he wondered why he was so calm and giddy at the same time. The semester was over, his notes were prepared for next semester’s lecture and he had reacquainted himself with some source material. He had students write frantic emails about papers to write and deadlines, but he dealt with them patiently, like he always did. Maybe, Castiel mused, he would be pregnant by the end of the summer holidays, but it was unlikely, his doctor had told him as much. And he was fine with it. He liked to not focus on the pressure of trying so hard to have a child. He had wanted for so long and denied himself for so many years that he was calm now and ready to take it as it came. He knew it would happen eventually and he marveled at his unlikely luck with Dean. Dean who knew when to say the right things and when to shut up. Dean who went to shop panties with him and who took to the many facets of Castiel’s life with an immense open-mindedness and curiosity. Dean who remained withdrawn and secretive at times, who called his mother and brother once a week and turned around his phone in his hands but never dared to call someone Castiel didn’t know about. Dean, who maybe needed a hug and a kiss even more than Castiel did.

He was lucky. And he really didn’t want it to end too soon, even though he knew that Dean wouldn’t stay here forever and that eventually they had to face the facts that they had never agreed on being in a relationship.

But maybe, sometimes, in the quiet moments they just kept each other company, Castiel wanted to. Just a little bit.

\--

Since Dean would be back in Kansas for the next two days, Castiel had invited Daphne over for tea. Dean didn’t mind not getting to meet this mysterious hippie friend as he tended to call her (she was no hippie though. Castiel knew hippies because he had been raised by two of them). Castiel was actually glad not to expand the circle of people who were in the know. Daphne wasn’t a nosy person, so she wouldn’t ask him unnecessary questions.

“Claire has asked when she can come paint our fence. She got new colors she’d love to try.” Castiel shrugged, but then when he looked up he saw Dean biting his lips.

“What’s wrong?” Castiel wondered, closing the gardening magazine he’d been reading. Dean shook off whatever had caused his unease and grinned at him.

“Hey, could you do the laundry today instead of tomorrow morning?” Castiel nodded. “Thanks, I forgot to wash my shirt and I need to look sort of presentable tomorrow.”

“What are you going to do anyway?”  Castiel asked, clearing away the plates from the kitchen island where they’d eaten. Instead of giving him the evasive answer Castiel had gotten used to over the last two and a half months, Dean chose to reply, fidgeting with the label of his beer.

“There’s someone – a doctor – who’s willing to meet me. I need people who will treat someone without asking too many questions and without being too expensive,” he said. Castiel lifted his eyebrows and put his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t they have clinics which will offer medical support? You’re a social worker, I’m sure there are less shady sounding options.” Dean laughed, peeling the label off and rolling it between his palm and the wooden surface of the kitchen island.

“It’s not that easy, Cas… There are many people out there who won’t even try to reach out for help when they’re close to death. I’ve seen shame and confusion and guilt. Those people could do rash things and sometimes it takes me days to coax them into coming to my office, so I can figure out how to help them. I’ve tried, Cas. But the _shady_ option is the one guaranteed to keep more people alive.” Castiel watched him pull apart the label, before he sighed and went to clean it away.

“Then  I hope the doctor is willing to help you,” Castiel said after a while and Dean’s shoulders slumped slightly, his entire posture getting more relaxed and when he turned to look at Castiel he was smiling again. “Building a network must be hard. Can’t you ask the people in Cicero?” Dean snorted and started to fill water into the sink.

“The only person still talking to me is my friend Cid. Lisa and Ben… Well…” Castiel thought back to all the phone calls Dean hadn’t managed to make and wondered just what kind of bad thing must have happened to him to not dare talk to them in almost 3 months. “I helped who I could, but I never got on with the authorities. The only guy who really liked me was the owner of the bar in which I’d rented a backroom. I bet he’s sad that my clients don’t come drinking their sorrows away anymore.”

“I doubt having a bar’s backroom as an office attracted a lot of people,” Castiel told him and Dean chuckled. Castiel turned towards Dean, his arms crossed over his chest now and it got the smile to slip off Dean’s face. “Dean. Don’t get yourself into more trouble than it’s worth. I agree that it’s a good goal in life to help people, but don’t endanger yourself. You should try to help, not sacrifice yourself in the process.” Dean frowned at that, but didn’t contradict him. “You know that you can always call me if you’re falling on hard times, right?” He reached out, Dean leaning towards him so that his hand could land on his shoulder. Dean looked at him out of the corner of his eyes, a small smile on his lips.

“Sure. Thanks, Cas.” Castiel nodded, then he let go of Dean again, feeling the tense atmosphere that had settled on the room dissolving with the sigh Dean took. “I’ll go do the laundry now,” Castiel told him, changing the topic.

“Oh, my shirt’s in the upstairs bathroom!” Dean called as Castiel was already walking down the hall.

“Dean, you have your own bathroom,” Castiel chided half-heartedly, hearing Dean chuckle.

“Well, you’ve been leaving your underwear in my room. It looks like I’m collecting trophies.” Castiel rolled his eyes and walked up the stairs. He got the laundry out of his room, dumping it in front of the stairs before he went into the bathroom. He looked for the shirt, seeing it tossed over the rim of the bathtub. Dean was usually neat, but he’d had a penchant for leaving his worn clothes lying about. Almost as if he’d mark his territory. He had found a sock pushed between his mattress and the headboard once, but Dean had just smiled and feigned innocence when Castiel had asked about it. Castiel grabbed the shirt, but upon turning he noticed the state of the counter into which his sink was embedded. The pregnancy test was sitting there. The third since he and Dean had started having sex. He had done it while Dean was out with Claire and he had forgotten to dispose of it after it had shown up negative just like he had expected after the first two had been the same. He sighed and grabbed it. As he turned it over the sign caught him off guard. There were two lines. Castiel frowned in confusion and held it up closer to the light. But there were in fact two lines. He quickly dashed to the bin, searching for the wrapping and pulling out the manual. One line negative. Two lines…

“Positive,” Castiel breathed, his heart hammering in his ribcage. He dropped Dean’s shirt and held the stick in both hands. He heard Dean downstairs, singing to the radio he had installed in Castiel’s kitchen. He heard the clang of dishes and the water draining. Castiel’s legs were shaking, but he dragged himself out of the bath, across the hall and into his room. Dean was walking up the stairs now, his steps loud and heavy on the creaking floor boards, loud drumming sounds going with the rushing of blood in Castiel’s ears.

He didn’t quite hear Dean call him, or ask what’s wrong. He felt Dean bend over him, his breathing blowing Castiel’s hair out of his face, before he reached down to put his hands over the angular shape of the thin pregnancy test. He turned Castiel’s hands around, exposing the result and Castiel felt a sting of worry and shame he couldn’t quite place. Dean didn’t say anything, he just pulled the test out of Castiel’s hands, putting it away.

“I thought it was negative,” Castiel said dumbly, as Dean pressed him down into the mattress gently. “We looked at it. It was negative,” he repeated even as Dean was getting him out of his clothes. He felt Dean’s hands on his hips, rubbing soothing circles over his hip bones with his thumb. He felt Dean’s nose poke the skin below his belly button before his breath was warm and damp on Castiel’s skin. Then his lips pressed to Castiel’s belly and Castiel couldn’t help laughing.

“You’re having a baby, Cas,” Dean said over Castiel’s odd laughter which he just couldn’t put a stop to. “You’re finally having your baby, professor.” Dean’s lips left his skin and Castiel felt the loss of their wonderful texture like a stab into his chest that cut off his air.

“I’m –“ But he stopped, unable to continue. “I am,” he said instead.

“Do you want to celebrate? Talk to someone? Be alone?”

“No,” Castiel said, grabbing the hem of Dean’s shirt and pulling him down, his weight a spark of comfort as it covered Castiel. “No. Please. I want you.” Dean nodded, catching Castiel’s open mouth with his own and slipping his palm past the still flat stomach and down into Castiel’s pants.

“Yeah… Yeah. Want you too.” Castiel pressed his forehead against Dean’s shoulder. He didn’t want to cry, but this was it.

\--

Dean had breakfast ready by the time Castiel stumbled down into the kitchen, hair all over the place and bleary eyed.

“What time is it?”

“A quarter to nine,” Dean told him even as Castiel walked from the kitchen to the living room. Dean followed him and set a tray on the coffee table in front of Castiel, who was hunched over, forehead in his palms. “I thought I’d let you sleep.”

“Shouldn’t you already be on the road? You said you wanted to leave after six.” Dean put his hand on Castiel’s back, rubbing slowly.

“I thought that maybe you didn’t want to be alone,” Dean told him and Castiel looked up at him. “I can call him and reschedule our meeting. If you need me I’ll stay here.” It was like a wave of ice was washing over Castiel and settled deep into his belly. He took a gulp of the hot coffee, hoping for it to loosen the stiffness in his limps and the dread that made his fingers shake.

“I don’t need you,” he said hoarsely. The hand on his back stopped its circling, but Dean didn’t pull away. “You should go, Dean.”

“Really, Cas, it’s no big deal. If you-“

“No,” Castiel said and this time Dean did take away his hand.

“Okay. I’ll be back in two days,” he said silently, kissing Castiel’s cheek. Castiel reached out, taking hold of Dean’s wrist before he could turn away.

“I’m sorry,” was all he managed to force out and Dean kneeled down to take his face into his hands.

“You just focus on yourself right now. We’ll see what happens when I’m back. You’ll call if anything comes up?” Castiel nodded half-heartedly but still tilted his face upwards to kiss Dean, holding on to his sleeves as if this would be the last time they’d ever see each other. “You’ll be fine.” Dean pressed another kiss to his forehead, then he brushed his warm palms against Castiel’s stomach, but before Castiel could melt into the touch and tell him to never leave, the warmth gentle pressure was gone and the entrance door was shut, the wind causing it to slam.

Castiel wrapped himself in his blanket and watched the curtains flutter in the light breeze.

\--

The 8 hour drive back home felt excruciatingly long and silent. Turning up the radio didn’t help the loudness of his thoughts circling around Dean’s head. Castiel was pregnant. Dean was going to be a father. Their contract had been clear enough: Dean would stay around for as long as it took to knock up Professor Novak. No relationship expected. No contact with the child necessary.

Castiel had told Dean to go, to make the long drive to where he was just starting to try to rebuild his life. But it had seemed meaningless the moment Castiel had held the positive test in his shaking hands.

Dean had to fight the urge to turn his car around so many times that he was surprised to arrive in Lawrence at all. The keys to his apartment felt heavy in his pant pocket and even heavier as he pushed it into the slightly rusty lock. The shop floor was still smelling dusty, but he could see that the floor had been swiped and the shelves dusted off. He went to the back and up the stairs, which led him to the door to his new home. He unlocked it, telling himself that this was it. This was the life he was trying to build for himself.

The corridor was empty, as was the living room. Dean put his duffel bag on the floor and went to the kitchen. There was a kettle, two mugs and a covered plate. Dean frowned in confusion, but there was a note stuck to the fridge _. “Welcome home, baby. Don’t forget to brush your teeth before going to bed. Love, Mom.”_

The plate revealed a pie, still slightly warm. His mother must have been here not all too long ago. Dean pushed his hand into his pocket, pulling out his phone.

“Mom,” he said before she could greet him and he heard Mary turn off the radio, creating an expectant silence that Dean couldn’t fill. He didn’t know what to tell her. That he did something great and wonderful and all of a sudden terrifying?

_“Just stay put, I’ll be there,”_ his mother said and then the call disconnected. Dean was still standing there, with his phone in his hand when Mary found him later on. She didn’t ask any questions, just pulled him into a hug.

When he asked her, much later, why she jumped in to catch him the moment he seemed to stumble, she smiled.

“That’s what parents do for their children, Dean.”

Dean almost told her right then and there.

\--

Checking his phone and mail account for messages after two days of avoiding anything and everything, was something Castiel hated with a passion. But he had woken up on this day, two days after he found out about his pregnancy, with a clarity of mind that he couldn’t let go to waste.

He was pregnant and that’s what he had wanted all along and he was prepared. He had his list of people to contact, he had put aside the money he’d have to pay, he had a diet plan he’d try to focus on. There was enough to keep him busy and to stop his moping.

He ignored most of the messages; there didn’t seem to be anything all too pressing. A few invitations to conferences and faculty meetings as well as some messages by students. He replied to those first, but then he called the department, asking Nancy to get him a meeting with the head of the department. She was obviously a bit surprised that Castiel didn’t arrange for one personally, but she didn’t ask about it.

_“Of course. What should I pencil in as topic?”_ The question, even though Castiel had expected it, made him give pause, trying to reply. Nancy was the first he spoke the actual words to.

“I’m pregnant.” It only took Nancy a beat to reply with congratulations. Castiel was taken aback by the excitement and joy he could hear in her voice. He was glad that the charged follow up question didn’t leave Nancy’s lips, but instead she just asked him when he would prefer a meeting and how far along he was. _“So you don’t even know if it will hold? I know this is unsolicited advice, Emmanuel, but maybe you should wait until the second trimester before making it known?”_ Castiel hadn’t thought about that. Of course he knew that there was a realistic chance that his body would reject the embryo, but the fact that he was pregnant and that he needed to prepare for it had taken over his thoughts, pushing more troublesome emotions to the side.

“Oh.”

_“Look,”_ Nancy said, “ _you’re not due till next year, right? I’ll arrange for a post-grad student to be available to teach from your notes towards the end of your pregnancy and you can take your sabbatical leave for the term afterwards. You don’t have to say anything until you’re sure you’ll have the baby.”_

“I…” Castiel sunk down in his chair, feeling boneless and small and exhausted, but very grateful. “Yes. Thank you so much.”

_“You’re welcome. And again, congratulations.”_ Castiel mumbled something in reply before hanging up, then he rolled back and forth with his chair, watching the minutes trick by on the computer clock and trying to figure out what he should do.

\--

Daphne was impressed with the garden, standing out in the sun, her skin slightly tanned and face covered in freckles. Somehow she painfully reminded him of Dean and she looked at him with worry clouding her eyes when Castiel was sitting down on the porch with a heavy sigh.

“Emmanuel, what’s wrong?” She walked up to him, taking a seat in the shade next to him. Castiel contemplated not telling her, thinking about what Nancy had reminded him of, but this was Daphne. She had helped him back on his feet when he’d been a shivering mess close to throwing himself into a river. Maybe if she hadn’t spent the last 4 months away she might have received bits and pieces of information (other than Castiel, Daphne spent a lot of time on the phone, staying in contact with people).

“I decided I want to have a child,” he said, voicing it as neutrally as he could, watching Daphne’s face change from worry to surprise, before she schooled it into her usually calm expression. She didn’t say anything and Castiel lowered his head with a groan, pressing his palm to his forehead.

“For how long have you kept this desire inside of you?” she wondered and he just shook his head. “Why now, then?”

“There was just something missing and I wasn’t sure what,” he told her, a silent but long overdue confession. “I just went to bed feeling drained and hated getting up in the mornings. I gave talks and took part in conferences and I still believe in what I told them, but those words are no longer for me. I’ve been trying so long to make other people understand and speak for those that will come after me. But me…” He looked up, the bright sun making the green of the grass vibrant and the air too hot to breathe comfortably. “Sometimes I feel I’m the same little Cas that was crying his heart out over a cup of hot chocolate you’d made him, because his husband didn’t want him and didn’t know who else to be than his wife. The same little Cas that had spent hours looking at mothers longingly, holding every baby he could and filling his arms with the weight of flower pots when he felt like he couldn’t hold his baby soon enough.”

“You’ve been wounded deeply…,” was all Daphne said and gently drew her fingers over Castiel’s cheeks – still dry even though his eyes were wet.

“I was just foolish. I’ve always told people that they could decide what to do about their own lives without being dictated by a body or a judgmental society, but I myself had no idea how to practice what I preached.” Daphne stood up wordlessly and went back into the house. Puzzled Castiel followed her, findingher in the kitchen, handing him a glass of apple juice.

“And what else should you have done? I’m not trying to be mean spirited, but your family is the most complicated, overbearing, ignorant bunch of people to ever raise someone as lovely as you,” she said, glaring all the while she swallowed half of her drink. “Jimmy’s alright, but you and him have always argued about who you both had to be. It’s odd how twins could be so different.” Castiel smiled, but couldn’t quite find the words to speak. Daphne reached out and rubbed his upper arm. “Don’t worry, sweetie,” she said encouragingly, “we’ll see you through this storm too.”

“Thank you.” Daphne smiled, then she looked him up and down. “What?” Castiel asked defensively.

“When you say you want something, you’re not going to stop until you have it,” she observed and Castiel tilted his head to the side, unsure what she was getting at. “So I assume you’ve already taken steps to get your child.”

“Oh,” Castiel said quietly and Daphne chuckled. “Yes. I did. And I am.” He said and watched Daphne’s face light up slowly and he felt himself grinning too. “I am, Daphne.”

“You’re pregnant, Emmanuel?”

“Yes, I’m pregnant,” he repeated after her and now, finally he felt a tension lift and laughter bubble out of him from deep within.  Daphne grabbed his hands and pulled him near to hug him. “But I only just found out, so I’m not sure if it-“

“It will. You’ve missed your child long enough,” Daphne assured him, giving him another squeeze, before she let go of him. “Have you had contact with the biological father?” Castiel nodded. “Will he play a part in your life?”

“I…,” Castiel started fidgeting, fumbling with his hands and putting them in his pockets when Daphne clicker her tongue. “That’s the biggest problem.”

“How come?” Daphne asked and followed Castiel into the living room, lifting up the cat to make space for herself. Woll seemed affronted for only a moment, before she climbed onto Daphne’s lap, rolling herself up again and ignoring both of them.

“I decided that I don’t want a relationship. And I definitely don’t need my child to have a father. I can do it alone,” he said, lifting his head to look at Daphne with a frown.”

“That’s alright, you’ll be perfect,” she told him, but he couldn’t quite get rid of his frown. “So what’s the matter?”

“I’m… I fear I got too close,” Castiel admitted, “I like him and I wish I could just have him stay with me… But…”

“But you have to do it alone,” Daphne finished for him, when Castiel couldn’t bring himself to continue. “I’m sorry…”

“Hmm.” Castiel leant back, feeling drained and immensely sad.

“I think you’ll just have to face it. Tell him that you’ll need to do it on your own. You won’t have to stop talking,” Daphne suggested.

“I didn’t stop talking to my ex-husband and that didn’t always make me happy… I don’t know if I can stomach hearing about Dean being happily in love with someone else,” Castiel admitted, embarrassment making him pick at his couch. There was still a stain just next to where he was sitting. They must have missed it while cleaning unless it had been deliberately overlooked. Daphne sighed, but she couldn’t help him with this. “It’ll hurt.”

“I’ll be here.” Daphne promised and while it wasn’t enough to soothe the loss Castiel already felt, it was enough to put a small smile back on his face.

\--

Dean rang the doorbell after the sun had started to set. Castiel let him in with a quiet greeting. It was unusual for Dean to not use his own key, and slip in quietly. Not the loud “prof, I’m home!” Castiel had become accustomed to hear ringing through the house upon Dean’s return. Castiel helped him out of his leather jacket, hanging it up for him. Castiel could see Dean watching him the entire time, but he didn’t say anything at all. He had flowers with him, a large bouquet of mismatched colors.

“From my mom’s garden,” Dean confessed, brushing his fingers against Cas’ when he took them to put them in the vase he had prepared for Dean’s return without thinking much.

“I haven’t expected you back,” Castiel told him evenly, pulling at the flowers a bit so they fanned out. The red evening light was shining into the corridor through the slim window next to the door, casting Dean’s face into shadows. Dean took a step forward and Castiel could see his face better. Dean usually didn’t look at him like he did now; calm and his features schooled, but with just a bit of worry creasing the corners of his eyes.

“I wanted to come back,” he said and Castiel didn’t step out of his way when Dean reached out to pull him into a hug. “How are you?” he asked after he let him go again. Castiel crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing his upper arms. It wasn’t cold but he felt chilly and nauseous.

“Fine.”

“Baby?”

“It’s been two days, Dean,” Castiel said and couldn’t help snorting slightly. He turned on his heels and walked into the living room. Dean took a moment to follow and by the time he entered the living room Castiel was already sitting, with an envelope in his hands which he was turning around anxiously. He could still rip it apart and forget all about his talks of independence and being able to carry on alone. And with Dean sitting down next to him, his warm hand pressing down on Castiel’s thigh he found it hard to remember that he was doing this for a reason. “Here,” he said quickly, firmly, deciding it was better to do this now than to drag it out.

“What’s this?” Dean asked in confusion, turning the blank envelope around in his hands.

“A check. It’s the 80% we’ve agreed on in case there is a positive pregnancy test.” Dean’s eyes travelled up from the envelope to Castiel’s face excruciatingly slow, the surprised expression turning into narrowed eyes.

“Cas, no, we-“

“We’ve had an agreement, Dean, and I won’t go back on it,” Castiel told him sternly, even when Dean’s frown changed and he just looked pained and sad.

“I know, Cas. Hell, I know,” he said, letting the envelope drop from his fingers as he grabbed for Castiel’s hands. “But you’re having my baby.”

“It’s _my_ baby,” Castiel corrected him. Dean squeezed his fingers a bit more tightly, warm and damp and shaking a bit.

“Cas, we can make this work. Don’t make me leave now, that’s not… I know that you didn’t want a relationship and I get it. I get that it didn’t work with your ex, but this is different!”

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted someone to help me have a child. I don’t need more, Dean,” Castiel said, but he didn’t pull his hands away.

“Seriously? And what have we been doing the past months? We were having a relationship, Cas!” Castiel fought the urge to lower his head and looked Dean in the eyes instead. “I’m sorry that I never dared to call it by what it was. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you sooner so that we could have talked it through!”

“Dean, we’re talking it through now,” Castiel told him, feeling his throat pull tight painfully and his eyes burn. He just had to get the words out, even if Dean’s eyes were wide and he was shaking his head slightly.

“Okay,” Dean said, letting go of Castiel’s hands and putting a bit of space between them. He reached up and wiped his palm over his face, covering his mouth and breathing loudly through his nose.

“Dean, I understand that you’re shaken and that this is difficult. But you need to understand that we didn’t enter a relationship. I am glad for your friendship and I enjoyed your company and the sex we had.” Dean snorted, but it didn’t deter Castiel. “But we can’t have a relationship. I didn’t plan for it and I can’t approve of it.”

“Why?” Castiel frowned, then he bent down and picked up Dean’s discarded envelope.

“You have work to do, Dean,” he reminded him and the first signs of Dean’s anger dissipated, leaving him wordless and stunned. “I was your job, but now you have your payment. Do you really want to give up everything you have worked towards?” Dean took the envelope back, looking at it. Castiel watched him press his lips together, swallowing once, his breathing coming out shuddering.

“It seems insignificant,” Dean said after a while.

“It’s not. What you do and what I do isn’t insignificant. And together we’ve created the beginnings of something that has the makings of being the most important thing in my life. But it’s my life, Dean, and it’s something I have to do.” Dean didn’t say anything and lightly beat the envelope against his palm.

“You’re sure about this,” Dean said and when Castiel nodded, he got up. “So I guess you’ll want me to get the rest of my stuff and leave.” Castiel didn’t say anything because that was not what he wanted, but it was what he needed Dean to do. Dean put the check into the inside pocket of his jacket, then he left the living room. Castiel leant forward, head bent towards his knees and rubbed his eyes.

It didn’t take Dean long to get packed, he had just a duffel bag standing next to his feet as he waited by the door. Castiel felt like he had become part of his couch, the springs and the thread wrapping around his limbs. But he forced himself to stand up and walked into the hallway. Dean pulled a key out of his pocket and put it on the drawer, right next to the vase with flowers out of his mother’s garden.

Castiel looked up at him and Dean’s calm expression crumbled instantly when he saw the tears in Castiel’s eyes.

“Cas,” Dean whispered and stepped forwards, putting his palms on Castiel’s cheeks, forcing a few tears out of Castiel’s eyes when he shut them. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I thought I’d cry when you’re gone. Nothing goes according to plan,” he said hoarsely and Dean pressed a kiss to his quivering lips. He didn’t contradict Dean, because maybe even if Dean couldn’t understand, Castiel knew that this was the right thing to do. “You should go,” he whispered. Dean slowly drew his head back, searching Castiel’s tear stained face.

“Castiel…,” he begged but Castiel closed his eyes again.

“Please.”

Castiel didn’t see Dean go, he didn’t see if he looked back or if he cried or if he was angry. He simply felt the loss of Dean’s hands as they slowly slipped away from his cheeks. He felt the warmth radiating off Dean distance itself, coaxing a painful chill back into Castiel’s body. He heard Dean shoulder his bag and open the door. He heard it close, silently, the clicking of the lock a gentle sound whereas Castiel would have preferred the finality of a forceful, angry slam. The impala’s rumble was the last thing Castiel heard of Dean.


	5. Chapter 5

PART TWO

\--

Getting up in the mornings got easier, not from one night to the next morning, but gradually, like the progress of their moderate summer. Nothing had really changed and Castiel didn’t bemoan the fact that there was no one to wake him up in the morning with a gentle kiss. He didn’t regret that the scent of coffee didn’t linger in the air. He did his dishes on his own and tried to be diligent about cleaning away his mugs. He did his shopping, according to his modified list, and kept his complaints that it tasted gross to himself. He went to his lunch dates with Gabriel with slightly more regularity. He watched Daphne water his plants and mow the lawn and he had Claire come and paint the fences with rainbows and birds and starry skies. He corrected papers, was a bit more lenient with his grades and a bit more verbose and helpful in his feedback. He prepared seminars and organized conferences.

Nothing much had changed but he knew he wasn’t alone in all of this and he had a silent, tiny companion that had settled deep within him.

His trusted gynecologist was surprised to see him in her office sooner than expected, having gently told him not to get his hopes up all that quickly.

“Yes, indeed, you’re pregnant. Congratulations,” she told him after studying the results of the test. “Did you use the DIY kit I gave you?” Castiel shook his head, letting her approach and pat his stomach with the same gentle familiarity she’d always used on him over the years. “Boyfriend or sperm donor?” she wondered and Castiel didn’t tell her off for being nosy, since he was well used to her curiosity. She had always been a friend of his parents and she’d been the one to assist the delivery of both him and Jimmy. He assumed that he had both his parent’s liberal thinking and her just shrugging it off to thank for still having the body he had today.

“Something in between,” Castiel admitted, “not a boyfriend but we saw each other regularly so that I could conceive.”

“Well, well. I hope the sex was good,” she chuckled, then she rolled her chair away from him again.

“Ezra,” Castiel growled, slightly embarrassed. “But yes. He was amazing. He had absolutely no reservations about my body even though he had never been with a man before.”

“Good boy,” Ezra said, then she handed Castiel a piece of paper. “You’re almost 8 weeks along and so far everything looks fine. But I’d prefer to see you in my clinic as often as possible because we do want to keep that babe.”

“Do you think it’ll be a-“ Castiel stopped and Ezra lifted an eyebrow at his sudden silence. “What? 8 weeks?”

“Not yet, but yes? Why does this surprise you?” Ezra wondered, checking her files again even though she was sure what the results had been.

“I’m about a month further along that I thought I’d be,” Castiel said and Ezra shrugged.

“It’s not like you’d notice if you miss your period.“

“Well, no. But I took a pregnancy test every end of the month and the one in late April didn’t show it,” Castiel mused, but eventually it didn’t matter. He was happy that he apparently already got through 7 weeks of his pregnancy without any complications. Ezra smiled to herself when she saw Castiel’s face lighting up.

“You just pay attention to yourself, Cas,” she said, then she walked up to him and put a kiss on his cheek. “For luck, but I’m sure you’ll be a perfect parent.”

The thought of the little thing inside of him growing steadily and Ezra’s reassurance that he would be fine, carried Castiel through the day and a stressful meeting with a carefree smile.

It was only when he found a battered copy of one of Dean’s books trapped between the two cushions of his couch that the good mood blew away and he felt very, very lonely in his empty, silent house.

\--

He wasn’t past his first trimester yet, but Castiel was bouncing with nervous energy. He had tried to rearrange his garden whenever he got too fidgety, but he was mindful of what Ezra had said to him about not starting doing anything that required more physical exertion than his body was already used to. So all Castiel did was relocate himself to the cool office downstairs which he had used as a storage room for things he didn’t quite know where to put and Dean had turned into a workspace. There were still parts of pulled apart machines lying on the table and he cleared them away into the same box he put all of the knick-knacks Dean had left behind. He was staring at a canvas listlessly, annoyed, when the doorbell rang and he sprung up in relief.

“What’s the matter?” Jimmy asked when Castiel hugged him even though he was barely through the door.

“I need someone to talk to,” Castiel confessed and pulled Jimmy back into the office because everywhere was too hot and stifling and dark with all the blinds drawn.

“Yes, but let me get us something to drink first, okay? Beer?”

“I’m pregnant,” Castiel blurted out and he wasn’t sure if it was in protest to the beer or if he just couldn’t hold his tongue anymore. Jimmy stopped dead in his tracks and turned back around, finding Castiel slumping back into his chair.

“Oh,” Jimmy said, then he pulled out the wooden stool from underneath the table and sat down heavily. “Oh,” he repeated.

“Just eleven weeks, but I’m sure I’ll be able to carry it to term. I just… I just needed someone to talk to about it.”

“What about Daphne? I thought you two gossip about everything?” Castiel sighed and pushed his mug, which was filled with sparkling water, over to Jimmy. “Thanks.”

“Daphne knows… I told her right away. But she’s not a mother.” Castiel looked at Jimmy and found him contemplative and silent, but nodding. Castiel sighed, rubbing his forehead. “I’m sorry. I know you’re-“

“I just didn’t think you’d want to talk to me about this, seeing how you didn’t speak to me for months after I told you about Claire.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but Castiel knew that this was still a sore, untouched wound between them.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t wish for myself to be so cold… But I was…,” Castiel shook his head, swallowing.

“Hurt,” Jimmy offered while Castiel said “jealous.” Castiel fell silent again and Jimmy reached out to rub Castiel’s back. “I understand, Cas. And I did understand back then. I would have wished my brother to be there for me, but that doesn’t change anything about the fact that I want to be here for you now.”

“I’m still sorry,” Castiel told him and Jimmy smiled at him.

“I know,” he said. “Why did you call me? Just to talk?” Castiel nodded slowly. “It’s Dean’s, right? Where is he?”

“Well… I’m pregnant, I paid him and I made him leave. Right now I regret it a lot. I miss him. And I wish to have sex.” That made Jimmy snort and Castiel pulled up the corner of his mouth.

“You’re a good looking guy, Cas,” Jimmy joked, “but I’m not volunteering.” Castiel rolled his eyes. “But that’s normal. Amelia and I never had as much sex as when we were having Claire. It’s a shame you ended this thing you had with Dean.” Jimmy didn’t ask why he did. “I doubt you’re looking for a one night stand now, but I know a good shop selling stuff that might excite you.”

“I don’t know…”

“We’ll find something you’re into, don’t worry,” Jimmy assured him. “Come on! Put on your shoes.” Despite himself, Castiel grinned and followed his brother.

\--

Castiel had to deal with a flood of mails and upset voicemails and stern looks and unanswered calls from his parents. It was August and even though his stomach was still rather flat and not noticeable if he chose his clothes wisely, he had to tell his sister. As head of department she needed to be informed about the plans Castiel had made with Nancy. Naomi had been disgruntled and called his parents and his brothers and he felt like the entire state of Colorado knew that he was pregnant, considering the mails and messages he found himself with. On top of that he had to return to university for the fall term in just two weeks and Jimmy was pestering him about their upcoming 35th birthday (which apparently had to be celebrated in style but Castiel would have preferred to be left alone.)

He was therefore not all that happy about the loud ping of a new message arriving in his mail box and wanted to ignore it. But he at least had to check what it was, considering that he was waiting for an answer mail from the doctorate student Nancy had managed to find for him.

He took a sharp breath when he read the name of the sender.

Dean Winchester.

Castiel hadn’t expected the feeling of being suddenly plunged into icy water nor the instant pang of intense longing that spread from his belly to his fingertips, draining the color off his flushed face in its wake. Castiel took a deep breath, the air rushing through him with new heat and he felt his face burn and his heart thump quickly.

The subject line (“Hey there, professor”) was innocent enough, similar to the very first mail he’d ever received from Dean, which was printed out like all other mail communication between them and put into some sort of baby related scrap book the maternity blog he’d liked to frequent had suggested. Castiel clicked it open before he could regret it.

_“Hey, Cas._

_How are you?_

_I didn’t want to bother you with this, but it’s been 13 weeks. Is the baby alright?_

_Dean”_

Castiel wiped at his mouth, unsure whether to answer or not. He’d been so busy he forgot to send the check for the rest of Dean’s money over.

“Clean cut,” Castiel muttered to himself, but still clicked the reply button. He had to know his address after all. He’d write this answer and then he could return to getting bothered by people asking about his pregnancy and the father and Castiel’s sudden change of heart.

_“Hello Dean_

_It’s good to hear from you. I am well. I hope you too have been able to gain your footing. The child is in good health and in fact I’m already past the four month mark._

_I forgot to inquire after your address (or bank account details if you’d prefer) so that I can hand you the rest of the money._

_Castiel”_

It wasn’t the best mail he’d ever written, but the ringing of his phone startled him into clicking send before he could make up his mind not to answer at all. He hissed in embarrassment because surely he should have rephrased something, but now it was gone. He heaved a sigh and grabbed his phone. The screen said “Naomi” and Castiel pinched the bridge of his nose. There were only so many times he could ignore his sister, but he rejected the call and put his phone on mute. Even though he received an angry text message that didn’t bode well (“Fine, have it your way, unfortunately for you I know where you live”) he ignored the phone. The computer played another sound alarming Castiel to a new message just after he had thrown the window open with contempt, breathing in the too hot August air. He told himself that he was still waiting for Miss Bradbury to get back to him, but he couldn’t deny the embarrassing rush of excitement he felt when he saw Dean’s answer.

_“Really?? That’s great! Wow! I hope there’s been no morning sickness or cravings for pie at unusual hours of the day. I hope it’s a smooth pregnancy._

_Wow, Cas.”_

The message was short and sounded as breathless as Castiel felt all of a sudden and somehow Dean had conveniently forgotten to add his address, making it necessary to send him another reply.

_“No morning sickness. I might have put on a bit of weight due to eating pie though. My gynecologist says everything’s going as it should. It doesn’t always feel comfortable though.”_

_“Why not? Summer probably isn’t the best time to be pregnant.”_

Castiel raised his hands to write the reply, but then he thought better of it and got up so quickly that his chair rolled back into the wall. He grabbed the phone and with a deep breath pushed down on the buttons.

“Cas?” Dean picked up on the first ring and Castiel almost did something as silly as squeaking when he heard Dean’s voice. Instead he took another deep breath.

“Hello Dean,” he said and he could hear laughter on the other side.

\--

Dean’s apartment came along slowly, even with Sam and his mom there to help him. His place was spacious, rooms with high ceilings and big windows covered by iron bars and layers and layers of dirt and ash that Dean had spent hours trying to clean to get some sun light in. He wasn’t entirely sure what had been in here before, just what had warranted such poor conditions and a blood stain that had caused Dean to replace all the creaking floorboards in the living room. Everything looked better though after Dean painted it. He had gone the easy way and chosen a neutral white because he really hadn’t wanted to wait until he could make up his mind about the perfect wall color. Apparently his mom thought it was important that his first home, his permanent home as she hoped, was just the way Dean wanted it to be. A perfect little sanctuary even though Dean and Mary both knew that having his office downstairs had the potential to invite trouble.

“Dude, you’re still making these secret phone calls?” Sam asked, when Dean came back into the shop floor where Sam was half reading a thick book and half trying to reapply lacquer to the counter. Dean still had no idea what to do with this part of the building, but he really liked the inviting, slightly curved window front, with its rectangles of smaller panes of glass. Sure, it needed a lot of cleaning and the wood between the panes had to be repainted like almost everything. Even though it was still a lot of imagination the place was shaping up to be charming. At least that was the word Castiel had used when he had called Dean to thank him for the bouquet of flowers to celebrate the 5 months mark.

“Can’t I have friends, Sam?”

“I don’t know. Depends on whether they’re human or not,” Sam teased and Dean rolled his eyes, letting the phone disappear into his pocket. “But seriously, who is it?” His brother was putting the brush away and closing the book, so Dean guessed that the effort of trying to ignore him was actually too much of a hassle. He hadn’t told anyone about Cas. Not that this was a surprise, because how could he possible go about explaining to them that some guy (not even a girl!) they didn’t know was carrying Dean’s baby. It kept Dean up at night from time to time and made him stare at fathers with their babies wistfully. But Sam was still looking up at him expectantly, so Dean sighed and grabbed one of the wooden chairs standing around, sitting down heavily.

“His name’s Cas,” he said and saw Sam lift an eyebrow.

“Cas?” he repeated and when Dean only shrugged Sam sighed. “Is he part of work?” Dean shook his head, but then he frowned.

“Well, I did work for him, when I was over in Colorado,” Dean admitted, “that’s the money I live on right now.”

“Yeah?” Sam was standing up, dusting off his jeans and pulling his long hair back to get it into a ponytail. “So what does he do?”

“Professor of historical anthropology,” Dean said and Sam looked surprised at that, missing some of his hair so that only half of his mane was in a ponytail and the other was sticking out.

“In Boulder?”  Sam asked and for some reason Dean had the feeling that he’d said too much by giving Sam an affirmative nod. He knew his brother was clever and attentive, but he was still taken aback when Sam fixed him with a stare. “You’ve been working for Professor Novak? Is that why you asked about him?” Before Dean could say something Sam’s eyes widened. “Dean, don’t tell me you dated Professor Novak!”

“Sam what the-“ But before Dean finished his sentence he groaned, scratching his head. “I guess so.” Sam snorted, shaking his head, but there was a grin on his lips. “What?!” Dean spat but Sam just shrugged.

“Oh nothing. But it’s nice I guess. I didn’t think you’d have a long-distance, long term relationship.” Dean’s face fell and he could see the smile slip from Sam’s lips immediately. “What’s wrong?”

“Well, he kind of dumped me,” Dean admitted. Sam had nothing to say to that, no joke that Dean had expected, but he did reach out to pat Dean’s shoulder. “Well, I guess to be dumped you’d first need to have a relationship, but he didn’t quite want the commitment.”

“I’m sorry about that, Dean,” he said and Dean shrugged. His phone beeped and he was glad for the distraction. It was a text from his mom.

 _“I found something for you. Check your mail.”_ Dean snorted, shaking his head.

“Mom really needs a better hobby,” he muttered and Sam looked up.

“A case?”

“Yeah, you coming with me?” Sam nodded and stretched. “But do something about your hair, it’s ridiculous. You’ll scare off my clients.”

“Shut up. But if we’re going down into a sewer again then I’m out.” Dean snorted but couldn’t keep the grin off his face. At least this could take his mind off Castiel for a moment.

\--

This work, sitting opposite a shivering woman, offering her tea and sliding a bag full of blood over the counter currently serving as a table, was not what Dean had been brought up to do. The college fund his parents had started for him even before he had been born was mostly untouched, but not because he lacked interest in the challenge his mother had always encouraged, but because he had felt that there must be more. Some other way to help and protect than to become a police officer or a doctor. Something more hands on, something that involved the swooping lines of old incantations his mother drew on his window panes. Something like his father did after he had left his wife, tearing across the state in search of things to plunge his shiny blades into or to fire bullets at. His father had been less than pleased when Dean has put his foot down after a particular rough job that left Dean with no injuries but lots of blood on his hands.

“I’m sorry that we can’t turn you back,” Dean told the woman, “but I’ll help you adjust.” Dean pressed his palm against the blood bag. “This won’t be the same, okay? But it’s better, you’ll hurt no one.” The vampire nodded weakly, a watery smile on her lips. “If you want I’ll prepare the back room for you. If you don’t trust yourself right now, maybe it’s best you’re locked in.”

“Yes, thank you,” she said and Dean smiled, squeezing her shoulder encouragingly. “I still can’t believe this is happening to me…”

“It’s a lot to take in, I know. But we’re gonna get you through this, okay Lucy?” She smiled at him and he grinned back. The bell jingled slightly and Dean looked up to find a guy fidgeting in the doorway to the shop.

“You’re Dean Winchester?” he asked and Dean nodded, “word has it that you… provide help?” Dean cocked his head to the side. “I’m a skin-walker. They call me Lucky,” he said and Dean fought back a laugh, stepping back so Lucky could get over the threshold. Neither the salt lines, nor the devil’s trap held him out, so Dean assumed he was safe.

“Lucky? That’s Lucy. Lucy, Lucky,” Dean introduced them and Lucy licked the blood of her lips to wave at the man. “Sorry, it’s still bare. I’m just starting after all.”

“Y…Yes. I heard about you when you were still living in Cicero,” Lucky told him and Dean lifted an eyebrow in surprise, “word travels fast. Sorry about the Djinn fiasco.” Dean accepted that, unsure if the publicity was something to be worried about, but since he wasn’t a Hunter that specialized in killing non-human beings, he was pretty sure he was tolerated on the supernatural map.

“Good. Just tell me what you need,” Dean suggested, getting another stool for Lucky. He’d do these talks in the back rooms, more professionally, but they weren’t ready yet. So a chat in the still unused apothecary would have to do.

“I just want to get off the street, but for that I need to be human long enough to find a job… It’s easier getting by as a dog, but being a dog doesn’t earn you money.”

“You’re a dog?” Lucy wondered, looking Lucky up and down in confusion. Dean sighed, feeling that maybe he should write a “welcome to your new life” information booklet for monsters in training. While Lucky used his computer and he was talking to Lucy about vampires and other monsters she might encounter in the years to come, he thought that yes, he was content. The choice he had made to settle down and try to continue even though it had never quite worked, had been the right one.

But there was still a certain melancholy when he thought about the grating emptiness around him.

“Maybe you could open a bar,” Lucy suggested, looking around the shop. “Or a coffee shop. People like coffee shops.” Dean wanted to tell her off, explaining it was silly to open a monster coffee shop, but the thought actually made him chuckle in its absurdity.

“Okay,” he said and Lucy seemed pleased, sipping her tea to wash down the taste of blood. “We’ll see.”

\--

It was seven in the morning and Dean was what felt like knees deep in the guts of a werewolf - that hadn’t listened to his advice to stay the fuck locked up during full moon - when his phone rang. He hissed, dragging the werewolf in by the scruff of her neck, remembering to apologize for pulling her hair when she was more coherent, and getting her onto the bed in the room he had reserved for medical emergencies. He was pretty sure that nothing but a lethal wound inflicted with a silver knife or bullet would actually kill her, but the slash across her stomach looked bad enough.

“Stop growling and put pressure on your wound,” Dean spat when the ringing of the phone made the woman gurgle wetly and aggressively. He wanted to ignore the phone call, but his annoyance was replaced by worry when he saw that it was Cas on the other end of the line. “Just a moment, Madison.” He flipped his phone open. “Cas? Cas what’s up?”

 _“What’s that noise?”_ Castiel asked instead of answering and Dean reached out, patting Madison forehead when she started whimpering, the adrenaline rush quickly abating and replacing her ferocity with fear and worry and pain.

“TV,” Dean lied, “everything okay?”

 _“Yes,”_ Castiel said and Dean breathed out in relief, but then Madison pawed at his leg weakly and he recalled what he was supposed to be doing.

“Hey, you don’t happen to know if a knife wound to the stomach can kill a werewolf?” he asked. There was silence on the other end of the line and Dean thought if he should just stab himself for blurting that out, but then he heard the soft rustle of bed sheets being turned to the side. He wondered why Castiel was calling him from bed, but the gnaw of worry was interrupted by Madison now pulling at his sleeve and gesturing to her wound, making signs that probably meant she wanted the wound sewed shut.

 _“I’m a historical anthropologist Dean, not a monster encyclopedia,”_ Castiel sounded slightly breathless, but not alarmingly so. _“If the werewolf hasn’t been killed instantly then either the blade wasn’t pure silver or the cut wasn’t deep enough to wound the Other.”_

“Other?”

 _“The wolf, Dean. What are you watching at 7 in the morning?”_ Castiel sounded suspicious but didn’t ask when Dean deemed it best not to answer with another lie. _“Are you busy…?”_

“I’m supposed to be working, but I think I can spare a second.” Madison hissed at that, but apparently the blood had stopped flowing so she didn’t need his immediate attention anymore. “You don’t sound so well.”

 _“No, it’s…”_ Castiel sighed. _“I’ll call you back.”_ With that Dean heard the click of Castiel terminating the call and pressed the mobile phone against his forehead, not caring that he smeared blood over his face. There had been quite a few instances in the last two weeks where Dean had ignore Castiel’s calls and Dean really didn’t want to make this a habit, now that he and Castiel had found some sort of friendship again.

“Boyfriend, Dean?” Madison asked weakly, but there was teasing in her voice, so Dean assumed she was fine enough for him to glower at her.  He pulled the bloody towel away from Madison’s stomach and saw that the wound wasn’t looking that gruesome despite all the blood. He carefully started cleaning away the worst of it.

“No,” he said, then he got needle and thread, grateful that monsters usually didn’t fuss much when it got to sewing wounds until they had enough strength to heal. “You’re lucky that it was already dawning and the moon’s power was receding or I’d have had no chance to get you here without getting maimed or at least bitten.”

“I’m sorry but-“

“No sorry but. Because you didn’t listen you got a guy killed. A hunter, Madison. That’ll be a pain in the ass to clean up without drawing unwanted attention to either you or me.” Madison at least had the decency to look ashamed. Dean finished his first aid, then he went to wash his hands, taking some manner of comfort in watching the blood wash off so easily. It had been harder in the past. He sighed before he turned back to her.

“Look. I told you that as far as we know there’s no cure, but you can be controlled. But you’ve got to do exactly as I tell you or else you’ll end up with a silver bullet in your heart quickly,” Dean warned her and the werewolf nodded lightly, giving off the air of an ashamed little puppy and Dean almost burst out laughing at the idea. “Get some rest, I have to make sure that the police will accept this as a freak animal attack, if they even find him,” Dean mused. Madison nodded and Dean snatched his phone, leaving her behind to go to his office.

The room had only a small window that showed into a backyard that was nothing but tall weeds and a sorry looking tree. Sam had put a swing there, sitting in the little shade the tree provided, drinking a beer and reading while Dean was inside his room, trying to coax some Hunters into helping him instead of wanting to kick his ass for being a disgrace. It was still rather cool this early in the morning and he sat down in his chair, taking a well-earned two minutes to just lounge there before he reached out to switch on the police radio and his laptop. Nobody had found the dead guy yet and he doubted hunters would come looking for him. The guy had been a dick, not the kind of dick who deserved to die, but the kind of dick who came to kill girls that tried their best to just settle back into their messed up lives. Dean was luckily quite good at getting rid of evidence (and bodies) so they should be fine. When an hour had passed and no emergencies came up (apart from Garth getting in the way of a pretty harmless witch), he turned down the volume of the radio and called Cas back. It was a Friday, so he had no classes to attend and at this time he’d probably have dragged himself out of bed for good and was just settling down with a cup of tea.

He was not surprised that Castiel still sounded gruff when he answered his phone, but not like Dean had just woken him.

“Sorry about that, Cas.”

 _“You had to work,”_ was all Castiel said and heaved a sigh.

“Yeah, I know, but I prefer to put you over work,” he admitted and when Castiel didn’t reply Dean decided to not endure the embarrassing silence and changed the topic. “So, what’s up?”

 _“The baby kicked me awake,”_ Castiel told him silently and Dean could hardly reign in the excitement, but there was something about the way Castiel had told him that caused him to wait. _“It was the first time I could feel it. And I wanted to share the joy with someone, but…”_

“But I put the phone down on you,” Dean continued, wearily slumping in his chair, shaking his head at himself. “I’m so sorry.”

 _“No, that’s not it,”_ Castiel interrupted before Dean could berate himself some more. Castiel hesitated and Dean could hear the faint sound of music playing in the distance _. “I’m having a sonogram today and I don’t know if I should ask about the sex. It doesn’t matter, but I wanted to know if it’s… like I am.”_ Apparently Cas didn’t want to tell Dean what’s been up with the baby kicking that upset him, but he gladly latched on to the next topic Castiel had brought up.

“I’m curious. Well, if you want to tell me of course,” he said, trying not to sound too eager. He knew it wasn’t his place and as far as Castiel was concerned Dean didn’t have a part to play after the lucky little sperm had left Dean’s dick, but he did want to know.  Even if only to get an idea what kind of card he could send Castiel to congratulate him on the birth of his baby.

 _“I’ll ask then,”_ he said and Dean could hear Castiel breathe into the receiver and the silent wet smack of him licking his lips. Dean waited patiently for him to be able to say what he still wanted to get off his chest. _“Do you want to see a picture afterwards?”_ The question took Dean by surprise and he leant back in his chair, a smile on his face.

“Yeah, yeah of course,” he said excitedly, he was sure that this wasn’t Castiel’s first sonogram, but he hadn’t shared anything about it but the fact that their child was healthy. Castiel was silent for another moment.

 _“Are you busy?”_ Dean opened his mouth to reply, but Castiel was quicker, adding a breathless _“I miss you. I want to see you.”_ Dean jumped out of his chair, banging one knee against his bulky desk. He bit back a pained wince and hopped over to the calendar lying open on a drawer, underneath a big map where he tried to keep an overview of who was located where doing what. Lucy was due to pick up blood and he had an odd appointment with a Lamia needing a fake passport so she could go back home to Greece. But that was in a week and he’d ask his mom to take his calls and watch the emergency bell.

“Yes. Give me two hours and I’m leaving,” Dean promised. Castiel started laughing on the other side, the sound welcome, warm and relieved.

 _“Yes. Please, yes,”_ Castiel breathed into the receiver and Dean couldn’t help the shiver of arousal that spiked through him.

“I can be there in ten hours, baby,” he said, adding a muted “sorry” for the endearment that had passed his lips unbidden.

 _“Dinner. At seven? Don’t be late.”_ Castiel hung up, the click surprising because Dean had wanted to shout so many things into the receiver. Questions and jubilations, but most of all confessions and desires, but now the line was dead and he had 2 hours to prepare his sudden weekend holiday.

\--

Dean was laughing already when he threw open the door of his car, Castiel standing on the porch, hand pressed to his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.

“Cas!” Dean greeted loudly, the grin on his face stretching even wider when he climbed up the stairs. He was tired from the almost non-stop drive, but it was worth it. “It’s good to see you, man!” he said, but Castiel didn’t really give him an opportunity to look all too closely at how more than 5 months of pregnancy looked on Cas. He took the flowers out of Dean’s arms, breathing in their sweet scent with a pleased little moan, before he put them in the usual vase.

“It’s good to see you too, Dean,” Castiel said and let Dean into the house before he walked into the living room. The light was bright inside of it and Dean almost stumbled over his own feet when he got to see Castiel. He wore a light, sleeveless top that was tight around the upper body, but then loosened up to accommodate for the baby bump. Under that were thin cotton shorts of a pale tan color. But Dean didn’t quite care about the clothes even though he let his eyes roam over them in an attempt to take everything in.

“Shit, you’re beautiful,” Dean managed to say, the smile on Castiel’s face widening, the blush on his cheeks intensifying slightly. Dean hadn’t been entirely sure what to expect a person five months pregnant to look like, but whatever his mind had come up with was a pale comparison to what he had before him.

“Thank you,” Castiel said, then he lifted his hands to drum his fingers on his belly. After a while he looked up from underneath his bangs (he must not have gotten a hair cut in a while; his bangs hanged into his face and the rest of his hair curled slightly around his neck.) “You can touch me if you want.” Dean didn’t need to be told twice and crossed the space that was between them. But other than putting his hands on Castiel’s belly he wrapped him into a gentle hug, delicate enough to not press him too much to his own body, even though he really wanted to. He could feel Castiel’s stomach press against his belly.

“I missed you,” he said and Castiel reached out to wrap his arms around his neck. Dean was tense, trying to reign in the desire to put kisses all over Castiel’s face and not to touch where he shouldn’t. Castiel let go first, taking a step back. But then he took a hold of both of Dean’s hands, gingerly pressing them against his stomach. Dean felt the firm warmth underneath his palms and the slow raise and fall as Castiel took deep breaths through his mouth. Dean looked up in slight alarm, but Castiel cracked an eye open, giving him a reassuring nod. Dean looked down again, slowly moving his hands, mapping out the rounded little cage that held Castiel’s baby. When his hands were close to Castiel’s navel he felt a very distinctive press against his palm. He almost yelped in surprise.

“Ah,” Castiel said though, his eyes still closed. “She acknowledged you.” Dean rubbed over the place where he expected tiny little feet to be, but then he looked up, finding Castiel’s eyes upon him.

“A girl then?”

“Yes. The equipment is better than it was 30 years ago, so Ezra is pretty sure that she’s female.” Dean grinned. “I would have been pleased either way, but I can’t deny that having a daughter excites me.”

“Do you have a picture?” Dean asked and Castiel nodded eagerly. Castiel guided Dean upstairs into his office, where he watched him lift up an album. The page was open, blank apart from a date and two pictures that had not yet been glued in. Castiel lifted one up and handed it to Dean.

“There you go,” he said and Dean looked at it, stunned. Castiel tugged at Dean’s sleeve, pulling him down on the empty chair next to him.

“Sorry, I must have… Uh…” Castiel took the picture out of Dean’s hands and slipped his palm inside instead. He gave it a gentle tug and then Castiel was leaning into him, pressing a kiss on his lips. Dean let out a shuddering sigh, melting into the kiss, chaste but lingering as it was.

“I have dinner ready,” Castiel told him against his lips and Dean was very tempted to tell him to just forget about it and stay here. But he reminded himself that they weren’t a couple and there was no guarantee that Castiel wanted to have sex. A kiss alone might have been a good sign, but Dean shouldn’t draw conclusions.

But he spent dinner thinking about it. He felt the texture of the food Castiel had prepared for him on his tongue but he wished to feel the texture of Castiel’s lips on his. He watched Castiel’s mouth brush over the rim of his glass and open to bite down on a bun or pull a gnocchi off his fork. He watched this throat as it moved, the concentration in his eyes as he ate almost as if dissecting his food.

“It’s good, did you make it yourself?” Dean wondered, feeling the wood of Castiel’s dining table rough and sturdy under his palm, tapping his fingers in the rhythm of the music Castiel was playing. The entire house was full of quiet whispers of lyrics and melodies whereas 5 months ago it was Dean who carried an old radio into the kitchen or out on the back porch and played his music.

“Yes… Though I wouldn’t quite call it good. Decent maybe,” Castiel said with a frown.

“Well, definitely better than past attempts,” Dean teased, watching Castiel shrug, totally unaffected when confronted with failed cooking attempts in the past. “Are you learning to cook for your baby?” Castiel nodded. “Lucky girl.” Castiel smiled at him, a very light blush making his face even more charming.

“Well,” Castiel said, putting his fork down, “do you want a coffee?”

“I guess I should go book a room, I’m quite beat,” Dean told him, pressing his knuckles against his forehead in an attempt to ward off the tiredness. But after the trouble in the morning and the long drive here, it seemed impossible to stay up much longer.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve prepared the guest room for you,” Castiel told him, clearing the food off the table. Dean sighed, grateful when Castiel pulled him out of the chair and shoved him into the familiar room. Dean fell down on the bed, face first. He only mustered the energy to turn on his back when Castiel clicked his tongue.

“Good night, Dean.”

“Night, Cas,” Dean muttered, tiredly waving at him and getting out of his clothes when the door clicked shut. He fell asleep almost as soon as he had the familiar blanket drawn over his shoulders.

\--

Dean woke up well rested and with a bit more clarity of mind than yesterday. He was here, back in Castiel’s house, but he has no idea in what capacity. He felt he was moving blindly on very slippery ground, unsure what he could and couldn’t do in ways he hadn’t been when he first moved inside. Everything had been fluid and easy, Castiel leaving so many openings for Dean to slip in that there had never been any awkwardness. The house was silent, but Woll was waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting on the island until she spotted Dean. She quickly hopped off, pressing her body to Dean’s legs but before he could pick her up she was already outside. Dean wiped her hair off the counter and looked at the clean mug in its middle. There was a post it note stuck on the rim.

 _“At the bakery”_ was all it read and Dean helped himself to some coffee, then he went about doing the dishes that were still in the sink. The house had reverted to its same sort of uninhabited silence that Dean had encountered the first time he’d been here. Having a baby in the making hadn’t really motivated Castiel to use his space any better. Even Dean’s apartment had flashes of him in every room, making it look well lived in and homely even though he had only moved in a short while ago.

Dean was done cleaning the kitchen by the time he heard the door open and the clack of shoes in the hall. Not a minute later Castiel poked his head in, carrying a bag, his hair a total mess and his face flushed.

“Good morning,” Castiel called, then he looked around, “oh, thank you, Dean.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart,” Dean said and Castiel seemed oddly pleased. “Let me take this.” Castiel gladly gave him the bag and sat down with a moan, watching Dean put his shopping away before preparing breakfast.

“I’m sorry about yesterday,” Castiel said out of the blue and Dean looked up from the tea he was pouring. Castiel fiddled with his fingers, rubbing and pulling as he usually did when nervous or embarrassed. “I shouldn’t have called like that.”

“No, you had your reasons. And I’m glad you did,” he said and put all of their food on a tray to carry into the dining room which was quite a bit cooler than the living room or the kitchen. “But what’s up? Did something happen?”

“Nothing out of the usual,” Castiel told him, but it wasn’t as if Dean knew what the usual entailed. “Now that everyone knows that I’m pregnant, people start asking questions. The further along I get, the more desperate they seem to get in wanting to know things.” Castiel put his mug to his mouth, breathing in the aroma before taking a sip. “It’s a big deal for my family, most of which have no idea about you, but know about the announcement in the paper I made. Gabriel thought it funny to send the ad to everyone who knows me, but everyone thought it was a jest until I confirmed my pregnancy.”

“What a dick,” Dean said with a snort and Castiel sighed. “So do they have a problem with your pregnancy or are they just curious?”

“Some are curious and others are outraged for one reason or another,” Castiel explained, but he took a bite of his honey covered slice of bread, leaving Dean to wonder just what there was to be outraged about. Sure, Castiel hadn’t particularly praised motherhood as far as he had learned, but his family at least must have known about the possibility of Castiel ending up with a child sooner or later. “Mostly they think that now I have a child, I need a husband too. Some say that I’m betraying myself and them by succumbing to my biological coding.”

“What?”

“I do understand the disappointment to some extent, because I had always said that nobody should feel pressured into doing something simply because it’s expected of them. Don’t become mothers just because you have a womb. But it’s difficult, you know? Changing things you’ve believed in for so long. And it’s difficult not to want the comfort and challenge of making something grow out of you. I’m not a theory or an ideal. At the end of the day I’m the one going to bed lonely and dissatisfied.” Dean watched Castiel, calm and slightly resigned as if he had to say this over and over again.

“I think it’s okay… You made your choice for yourself,” Dean told him, slowly reaching out to cover Castiel’s hand with his own. “You don’t owe anybody anything.” Castiel nodded slowly, not moving his hand away, but when he looked up Dean straightened.

“I’m still going to bed alone and at times I regret it.” There was the tentative opening Dean had been looking for and he knew it was stupid to take it, but he couldn’t help being hopeful that maybe this time either he would stay clear-headed or Castiel would change his mind about what he did and did not want.

“You don’t have to. Not this weekend.” Castiel looked at him, but then he slowly nodded, eyes wide and attentive to every move Dean made. Dean got up from the chair, making his way to where Castiel sat and pulled him to his feet. Not here, he thought, even as he slipped his finger under the strap of Castiel’s sleeveless top, caressing the collarbone and the shoulder. Castiel only closed his eyes when Dean put his free hand in Castiel neck, to tilt his head up. “I’m glad you called.”

“I’m glad you answered,” Castiel replied, then he moved that last half step until he was right pressed up against Dean and his lips found their mark.

Maybe things would turn out slightly different this time.

\--

 Castiel wrapped himself around Dean with the exact same unashamed ferocity than he had before he had asked Dean to leave. He still gasped when touched just right, Dean’s name a shuddering breath passing thoroughly kissed lips. His hands clawed at Dean, scratching through Dean’s hair when he lowered his head to kiss along the insides of his thighs. Dean had expected some sort of inhibitions, either because his body had changed or because their relationship had been severed. But just like Dean found it easy to slip back into the familiar comfort of Castiel’s body, Castiel found it easy to let him in. It was almost as if their months of separations didn’t mean anything when they were having sex, even though there was so much they might need to tell each other. But Dean was content to only speak to ask if Castiel liked the way he relearned the new shapes of his body. Castiel was soft in ways that he hadn’t been before, in one way more sated but also needier than when they first had had sex. The box on Castiel’s nightstand, almost proudly presented to anyone who ventures into Castiel’s room, had held an assortment of sex toys next to the lube Dean had been looking for.

“I craved it,” Castiel had moaned, not in the least apologetic, and why should he be? Dean loved this about Castiel. “It feels good, but nothing was right. _You’re_ right.” It was probably quite a sappy thing to say, but Dean had been breathless for a moment and had reverted back to the silent exploration of Castiel’s body.

“You’re right for me too,” he whispered now, while Castiel was clinging to him, panting against Dean’s forehead and arms thrown around his shoulders. The weight of Castiel in Dean’s lap and the rounded press of his stomach against his own had been enough to steal the confession right out of him. Castiel gulped for air loudly, but then he chuckled, pressing a sloppy kiss to Dean’s forehead. Since Castiel had no inclination to get off Dean he was happy to merely hold on to him.

“Have you told anyone?” Castiel asked after a while, squirming a bit in Dean’s lap. Dean hissed at the new stimulation, but then Castiel let his weight fall back and Dean had to go with him.

“What?”

“About me?” Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes, half obscured by his bangs. Dean reached out to put his sweaty hair behind his ear, then he traced Castiel’s cheek with his finger.

“No. I didn’t think you wanted me to. My brother knows that we had been involved, since apparently he knows the name of every professor in America,” Dean said with a snort and Castiel smiled at him. “Why?”

“I’ve been asked for an interview and I’ll probably be in the public eye for a while, even after the child is born. I will keep her paternity a secret, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep silent to your family that you have fathered a child.” Dean thought about that, a slightly uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“Uhm…,” he cleared his throat and Castiel studied him with his eyes slightly narrowed withconcern. “Sometimes… Well, sometimes I want to tell my mom. It’s been on the tip of my tongue for many times. I can be far more careless with my brother and the other people I interact with, but with my mother… Sometimes she does things for me and I just want to tell her, but I won’t, Cas. It’s fine.” Castiel wasn’t convinced at all and he opened his mouth to speak, but then he frowned and shuffled a bit closer, draping a leg over Dean’s own.

“Didn’t you want to go to the cinema?” Dean asked instead of pushing Castiel into a sitting position and talking about this right now.

“I’d rather have sex again,” he said and Dean grinned. “But okay.” He sighed dramatically and heaved himself up. Castiel silently padded to the bathroom, leaving Dean to sit on the edge of the mattress, massaging his forehead. Somehow the uneasiness wouldn’t quite leave him, not even when Castiel came back half an hour later, with his hair combed properly, wearing a shirt that stretched well over his stomach, leaving no questions about his pregnancy. He wore jeans and an open button down shirt. He rolled his sleeves up, then he lifted his eyebrows at Dean invitingly, before he went to the mirror hanging over his drawer, to apply lipstick. He was beautiful. Dean was his secret.

“Is this a date, Cas?” Dean saw Castiel’s reflection look up, before he turned to look over his shoulder.

“I guess so? So you should better go put on some pants now,” he said flatly and Dean grinned.

“Just so we’re sure on the terminology,” he said. He saw Castiel wrinkle his brow slightly, but he didn’t say anything.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean felt that everything went great with Cas, from the sex to the date and now lounging about Castiel’s garden, watching the shadows stretch. It felt good to hold his hand lightly between their chairs and to watch Castiel’s belly rise and fall slightly, still under that revealing stretchy shirt with its little dark birdwing shapes. He could almost forget his job at home and the fact that there was actually another place but this one that he had to be at.

Almost, because his phone rang, the low music almost grating in the idyllic quiet. He picked up when Castiel looked at him and raised an eyebrow when Dean insisted he was on holiday.

“What,” Dean snorted into the phone.

 _“Why aren’t you home? I have what you might call a situation on my hands!”_ Dean pinched his nose at the voice coming out of the speaker.

“I’m on a date, Bela, can’t you drop by on Monday?” Castiel turned away, fiddling with their drinks, but it was pretty obvious that he could hear at least Dean’s side of the conversation.

 _“Well I can drop by at your doorstep in,”_ the woman said, then there was a small pause, _“Boulder, Colorado, if this suited you better. I’m sure the girl or guy you’re planning on fucking would like that.”_ Dean groaned. Of course Bela’d figure out how to trace him and he really didn’t need her to show up in Castiel’s back garden.

“What do you need?”

 _“You, preferably. I got a curse box, but unfortunately it had already turned one person into a very willing human sacrifice and his bloody kid touched it too before I got there.”_ Dean pinched his nose.

“I don’t have any books with me! How am I supposed to know what to do about that?” he hissed and out of the corner of his eye he saw Castiel sit up properly.

_“You’re the expert. The kid’s already started to claw at his chest and while I can keep him bound I don’t know how creative he’ll get.”_

“So burn the box, Bela!” Dean argued

“ _What? No way! That thing is worth almost a million dollars!”_ Dean groaned and pressed his forehead against his palm in exasperation. There was a reason not to work with demons after all and right now he really wished he had the Colt so he could at least put a bullet through Bela where it hurt.

 _“Look, you’re the humanitarian here. You tell me how to defuse the boy without scratching the curse box or I’ll do you the favor of dumping the body somewhere it won’t be found.”_ Bela hung up, the click and the empty ringing making Dean want to hurl his phone against the next tree. He was there to help monsters coexist with humans, not to lift curses!

“What’s the matter?” Castiel asked worriedly and Dean shook his head. “Dean, tell me.” He sighed deeply, but then he got up and looked down at Cas.

“Do you mind showing me the books on your hobby research?” he asked and for a moment Castiel didn’t do anything at all but stare at Dean confusedly. But then he lifted his hand and Dean let out a relieved sigh, helping Cas out of the chair.

“They’re in my office at the university. Come, I have a key.”

\--

The university was deserted this late at night, but Castiel assured him that he was known to sometimes spend the whole night here. If Dean wasn’t so frantic about the fate of the boy, he might have appreciated the office more, but all that registered was that it had a very soothing aura, far more comfortable than Castiel’s home. There were high book shelves made out of sturdy wood, built directly into the wall. Dean took out books while Castiel sat down, rubbing his stomach and watching Dean. Dean piled all the books on the desk that was tugged away in a rather spacious window niche. He sat down on the laptop that stood there and Castiel switched it on for him without asking questions or complaining. Dean was going through the books (and it was a rather substantial collection for someone who had researching superstition as their hobby) when Castiel joined him on the bench.

“What exactly is going on, Dean?” he asked, “why do you need to look at my books now?”

“It’s… work,” he said and saw Castiel frown, so he turned his attention back to the computer screen, where he had a picture of the wooden box. There were blood stains on it, but the etchings were still visible. Dean just hoped that it wasn’t the boy’s blood. Castiel didn’t say anything but Dean felt his stare burn hotly on the side of his face. Castiel heaved a displeased sigh, but then he pulled the computer close to him, looking at the picture.

“You’re a pain in the ass, and not in the nice way,” he complained, quickly scanning the picture. “A witch box, the wood looks pretty old, probably older than when it’s been built. What do you need to know about it?” Dean slowly raised his eyes to Castiel, but there was no hesitation or doubt in his eyes. Castiel was a practical person, he’d deal with this and ask the questions later and right now that was exactly what Dean needed.

“How to defuse it. There’s a curse on it and it’s making a boy want to kill himself.” Castiel frowned. “And burning it isn’t an option.”

“You can’t burn a witch box anyway. It’s made to be very durable. It holds the ashes and the ground bones of a witch. You can either bury it under the sapling of an ash tree or put it in running water for a cycle of the moon.” Dean decided to marvel at Castiel’s knowledge about this at a later time, right now he pulled out his phone to tell Bela the news. “That neutralizes the box, but not the curse.”

_“Who’s that with you?”_

“Shut up and tell me if that’ll work,” Dean snapped and Bela uttered a long-suffering sigh.

 _“Yes, we don’t want to lift the curse anyway; it would bring the value down to a third of what it’s now.”_ Dean rolled his eyes and he was pretty sure that the demon could hear the exasperation in his silence. “ _Okay, okay. I’ll text you if it works and then drop the boy off at the next police office. He won’t remember anything.”_ Dean muttered his thanks, terminated the call and then he put his arms on the table, letting his head drop.

“That was quite fascinating,” Castiel decided and got up. Dean was pretty sure this was the moment Castiel told him to get lost. “I’ll get us a coffee. And you better put my books back where they belong.” Dean looked up in surprise, but Castiel was already slipping out of the door.

Dean was done putting everything back and was sitting nervously on the bench by the time Castiel returned. It probably hadn’t taken Castiel 10 minutes to prepare the coffee he now placed before Dean, but maybe it was best if Castiel had his little freak out moment away from Dean.

“You’re not a social worker,” was the first thing Castiel said, slowly but in his usual tone, carrying no confusion or fear.

“I am… Just not for humans,” Dean confessed, closely watching the surface of his dark coffee instead of looking for changes in Castiel’s face. “Well, the boy was human I guess…”

“So asking me about monsters when we first met wasn’t just random curiosity,” Dean heard Castiel conclude and he shrugged. “And that was not your TV yesterday morning.”

“No…,” Dean muttered. Castiel breathed in deeply, releasing a loud sigh, but then he pulled one of his chairs from underneath the table and sat down opposite Dean. There was still the laptop between them, but Castiel pushed it shut, taking the last of Dean’s hiding places.

“Did the werewolf live?” Dean raised his eyebrows at the unexpected question. Castiel just tilted his head slightly, waiting for an answer.

“Uh, yes. I’m pretty sure she’s fine. And I hope she’ll keep herself locked in next full moon. Hunters don’t take well to stray wolves…”

“Something tells me you’re not talking about regular hunters,” Castiel said, tapping his fingernails against the ceramic of his cup. Dean shook his head. “So there are monsters, cursed objects, people that hunt monsters and then there are people like you.”

“Let’s just say there’s me. My job isn’t all that common.” He looked up now, unsure what to find in Castiel’s face – maybe disgust or fear – but Castiel just seemed pensive, slightly skeptical maybe, but there was nothing to suggest that he thought Dean was out of his mind or that he was thinking about calling the police.

“At least now it makes sense that I tend to get people dropping by to ask about rather obscure things,” Castiel said with a sigh, turning his cup around in his palm. Dean could see that the heat had turned them slightly pink, but he didn’t quite dare to touch him even though he wanted to press his own palms against that warmth. “My cousin and I used to speculate that there were probably conventions or festivals that caused people to ask about runes or the mating habits of griffins.”

“You know about the mating habits of griffins?”

“Give me a topic of research and I’ll give you an essay,” Castiel dead-panned and Dean couldn’t help laughing.  

“You’re taking this better than I feared you would,” Dean said, cautious still because even though Castiel might seem calm, it was possible that he was still just trying to process this.

“You were planning on telling me?” Castiel asked, his eyebrows raised quizzically and Dean had to lower his head.

“Eventually,” he hedged. Dean was sure he would have told Castiel, in a quiet moment and with a carefully prepared phrasing. But usually the reactions he got to this reveal were rather disheartening, so postponing it for as long as possible had seemed like the safest course of action.

“When you,” Castiel started, stopping to contemplate, “when you came back bruised a couple of times… What were you doing?” Dean was surprised to be asked about that and he shuffled back a bit on the bench, rubbing his hands nervously.

“I was clearing the vicinity of things that might be dangerous to you. Ghosts mostly,” he confessed. That Castiel would blush and smile shyly wasn’t quite the reaction Dean had expected, but he certainly took quite an amount of pride in it.

“This all sounds rather ludicrous and maybe it’s the hormones making me weak kneed, but this knight in shining armor motive you’ve got going for yourself is rather…” Castiel pressed his lips together, “sexy.” Dean blinked at him in surprise, but then he laughed. Odd that the first time Castiel called him sexy was in relation to his work, but he couldn’t deny that it made butterflies fly rampant in his stomach and chest.

“You really are endearingly weird, Cas,” Dean told him and Castiel rolled his eyes. “You’ve got quite a sturdy table.”

“That would be uncomfortable in my state, I’d advise against it,” Castiel argued promptly, “but I do have a couch.” Dean laughed while Castiel grinned. That probably was the best someone had ever reacted to the unconventional life Dean had chosen for himself. He was glad that this pleasant surprise had been caused by Castiel.

Dean knew that it was unwise and that they were still on very shaky grounds where their relationship was concerned. But Dean knew; Castiel _was_ right for him.

\--

They did part on good terms come Sunday evening and it definitely didn’t feel like just another painful break up, but how Dean imagined saying good bye in a long distance relationship was.

“I hope you’ll be back,” Castiel had said, pressing a lingering kiss to Dean’s lips before he took his hands to place them on his stomach. Dean was far more calm, but still very giddy on the drive back. It was amazing that he didn’t have to lie to Castiel again, but it was even better to know that he had the permission to step back into Castiel’s life. Maybe, just maybe, Castiel was warming to the idea of having a relationship.

But the hopeful voice at the back of Dean’s head was slightly dimmed by the fact that while he didn’t keep any secrets from Castiel anymore, he was still that one blank spot for Castiel. Unless Castiel changed his mind his daughter would not have a dad. Dean didn’t quite know how he’d deal with that, but it was something he had to face when they were a bit closer to the girl being born. Right now she was still snuggly curled up inside of Castiel for the next 3 months.

Dean was glad to see that his house was still standing, the closed sign turned and the light out in the shop floor and the windows of the upper story. When he got out of his car and walked around to the front door he noticed a figure leaning against the wall. He was prepared for all kind of ambushes and his duffel bag slung over his shoulder carried at least a gun and a knife, but he was tired from all the driving.

“Hey,” he called, carefully approaching. The guy was watching him, but it was too dark to recognize him.

“Hey, brother.” Dean did a double take, the voice and accent familiar, but he couldn’t place the stranger until Dean had approached enough to trigger the light. It flickered over the entrance door, casting the man below in a yellowish glow. Dean took in the dark hat pulled down into a bearded face, sharp blue eyes trailed on him.

“Benny?” Dean asked, recognizing he guy as the waiter who had served him in Louisiana. “What the hell?”

“Sorry to call outside of office hours,” he said with a chuckle. He sounded about as tired as Dean felt, now that he was slightly less alarmed. But then he widened his eyes as Benny’s words registered.

“Office- what, you need my help? What happened to you? Last time I saw you, you were a regular guy!” Before Benny could answer, Dean huffed and pushed past him to open the door. “I guess I’ve got the time for an appointment.”

“Thanks,” Benny said silently behind him, following Dean into the shop, until Dean changed his mind.

“Are you bleeding?” he asked, looking at Benny over his shoulder. The man seemed surprised, cocking his eyebrow.

“No?”

“Then come up. I really need a drink,” Dean told him and led Benny to the stairs that took them to Dean’s apartment. It felt good switching on his light and seeing the familiar surroundings again. He dropped his duffel bag and wandered into the kitchen. He pulled two beers out and put them on the table. Benny took a seat after Dean had kicked out a chair for him and they drank silently for a moment.

“So you’re not just a regular guy,” Dean said conversationally and Benny chuckled lightly. “How did you come across me?”

“I’ve got a friend, Lenore, who referred me to you,” he answered.

“So, vampire?” Benny nodded, very well aware of how Dean’s back had straightened. Having a vampire in his kitchen was after all pretty dangerous, even for someone who had a machete next to his bread knife. “For how long?” Benny shook his head and pulled off his hat.

“Couple of decades,” he said, much to Dean’s surprise. Benny smiled at him. “Don’t look so surprised.”

“No, uh. I don’t usually come across vampires who actually manage to stay integrated in society. Even Lenore and her group stays out of the way of normal people and they’re actually quite well organized.”

“It’s hard,” Benny told him, wringing his hands, before putting them flat on the table. “I used to drink, you know? We all do. It usually takes the loss of someone loved to change.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean said even though he didn’t know what had happened to the vampire just yet. But Dean knew loss, it accompanied the monsters like a shadow wherever they went. “And why did you come to see me? Just for a beer?” Benny laughed and Dean couldn’t help grinning. “Because I do still have to thank you.” Benny lifted an eyebrow, before understanding dawned on his face.

“So you got your professor?” Dean shrugged because he really shouldn’t be talking about this, he had told Cas that he wouldn’t blurt it out. But since Benny knew the advert in the paper it was pretty obvious without him saying anything. “Man, I can hear your heart hammering, you’ve really got it bad, brother.” Dean frowned, feeling his cheeks heat up. He wrinkled his nose, then took another gulp of his beer. “No… I came here because while my life was nice, it was also isolated. If you don’t have someone to talk to when it gets…” Benny reached up and scratched his neck. “Bad,” he continued, shaking his head, “resisting the call of blood is just that much harder.”

“So you want me to be your agony aunt?” Dean asked lightly.

“Yeah, sort of. But Lenore also told me that you had a shop floor completely unused and I know some things about running a place.” Dean looked up at Benny in surprise. Benny lifted his hands disarmingly. “I know you don’t know me and a place run by a vampire might not be your thing, but-“

“That’s not it man, I’m all for giving you a chance,” Dean interrupted him. “Tell you what? We get to know each other, let me get an idea of you. And if you can get along with Lucy, Bela and Sam, you’re welcome to join the gang,” Dean told him with a wide grin. Maybe he was too tired and the beer already got to his head, but for the moment it actually seemed like a fantastic idea and maybe it would get Lucy to stop whining.

“And what are they? Humans? Let me get this straight, I’m not dealing with ghouls, because they might be great chaps, but they will ruin any restaurant.” Dean burst out laughing, shaking his head.

“No, no. Lucy’s a vampire, Bela’s a crossroad demon.” Benny lifted his eyebrow at that, but he didn’t ask any questions. “And Sam’s my little brother. He’s a bit of a freak, but human.”

“Good, sounds fair. Then you’re in?” Benny asked, holding out his hand over the table. Dean reminded himself that he was severely lacking sleep and the beer created a comfortable fuzziness in his stomach and head. Maybe Dean should rethink this, but he found himself reaching out and shaking Benny’s hand.

“I’m in.”

Everyone could need a helping hand from time to time after all.

\--

Dean wasn’t entirely sure just what they were turning the ground floor into, but Benny had shown up with an impressive monster of a coffee machine for which they had to take out some boards of the wooden shelves behind the counter. Lucy had found a very retro looking, glossy pink water cooker and Benny took care to fill the small drawers of the cabinet with different flavors of tea.

“I’m not having a supernatural coffee shop in my house,” Dean argued, but his complaints were generally ignored or silenced by the assertion that they’d be selling sandwiches and soup too. Grumbling, Dean set to polishing the floor and finding them second hand, quite mismatched furniture.

They weren’t officially opened yet, probably wouldn’t be until the new year, but Dean found himself discussing cases over a cup of coffee in the shop, music coming from the small stereo in the kitchen, more often than in the privacy of his silent office. The place was properly secured by all kind of wards, the basement was slowly being transformed into a demon proof place. Of course, Bela complained about that, but she was content to take the backdoor which led her to a salt and devil’s trap free zone. He didn’t think that he really wanted demons as his clients, he could barely tolerate Bela after all, but he wasn’t willing to say no on principle alone.

With Benny as a relatively easy going roommate (a vampire as a roommate, who would have thought) and both business and shop coming along well, Dean felt rather secure within his own four walls in ways that he hadn’t since walking out of his mom’s door to chase after his dad. He also trusted Benny enough to let him take care of the business whenever he got a call from Castiel.

He and Cas had settled into some sort of routine, where Castiel kept him updated about what happened  during his pregnancy, sometimes in more detail than strictly necessary, and every once in a while wrote him a mail or called to ask him over.

“This would be easier if you just took the plane,” Castiel said when Dean let himself fall into Castiel’s waiting arms. “You shouldn’t drive when you’re tired.”

“Sorry, had a case coming up,” Dean mumbled against Castiel’s collar, but then he pushed himself into an upright position to place his hands on Castiel’s ever growing belly. Each time Dean saw him he seemed even fuller than last time. It shouldn’t surprise Dean in the least – babies were growing after all – but he felt like there must be a limit to how big Castiel could get.

“Oh, you should have cancelled then,” Castiel argued, but then he sighed contently when Dean brushed his palms over his belly.

“I took some files with me. It’s not a hands on case, but a consultation,” Dean explained tiredly and Castiel took him by his arm to guide him to the guest room.

“Can we have sleepy sex?” Dean muttered against Castiel’s neck when he had managed to lure him into bed with him. He slowly brought his hands over Castiel’s stomach to the stretched waist of the pajama pants under the curve.

“You’ll fall asleep. We can have morning sex instead,” Castiel promised and Dean was happy with that, turning onto his back, with the warmth of Castiel firmly snuggled into his side.

\--

Usually they didn’t have more than a weekend, cut even shorter by Dean coming late and departing early because of the long drive, so Castiel was happy to have Dean stay for 4 entire days.

“So, what are your plans?” Dean asked from the lumpy couch Castiel had placed on the back porch. It was far more comfortable for his aching back than the garden chairs were. It was still reasonably warm this early on in November, but Dean still had to pull at the thin blanket to uncover Castiel’s face. Dean smiled at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I just thought we’d sit here,” Castiel replied, “well, lie in my case.” Dean chuckled and rubbed his shoulder before placing a kiss on in through the fabric of Castiel’s shirt.

“Hey, you have me here for 3 more days, do you really want to be holed up here?”

“Preferably yes,” Castiel sighed contently, but then he cracked an eye open, studying the fond smile on Dean’s face. “Did you want to do anything in particular?” Dean shrugged and continued to rub Castiel’s socked feet resting in his lap, his fingers gently pushing against his soles in just the right places. Dean seemed pensive, looking out at the garden, a light rain pattering down, rustling leaves and grass. It was starting to look a bit bleaker now that the trees were losing their leaves and there were no longer splashes of colors everywhere. His child would be born in December, close to New Year and that was one thing Castiel didn’t look forwards too. He never had the patience for family holidays, especially not this year. The only thing he liked about it was visiting his old family home, which was empty now that his parents had decided that retirement in the French Provence was far more desirable and romantic. Since none of his other siblings had any interest in spending the time or money it took to maintain a usually empty house, his parents had been happy to hand the keys and ownership over to Castiel. But now that he was pregnant, organizing everything seemed tedious.

“Maybe we could go out to a restaurant?” Dean’s voice called Castiel out of his daydream and he raised his eyes to look up at Dean. “Maybe Italian? So you can get your salad crap.”

“Caprese,” Castiel chided, but then he sat up with a grunt. “I don’t know… It’s Friday night.”

“So?” Dean asked with a confused frown to which Castiel shrugged unhappily. Dean heaved a sigh. “Is it such a bad thing if they see you hanging out with a guy?”

“I don’t usually hang out with guys,” Castiel said with a frown and Dean rolled his eyes. “I don’t hang out with guys the way I hang out with you.”

“I know that you’re kind of known in your town, but even if people speculate, what’s so bad about that? I have been a bit involved in the making of the baby, yes, but they don’t know that. You could be having sex every day with another guy that is or is not the mystery father of your child. And that would still not be their business,” Dean said, his brow slightly wrinkled even though he did try to keep his voice light. Castiel lifted both of his hands, nodding slowly. He really didn’t want to argue about this. He didn’t want to argue at all in the short moments he had with Dean.

“I know,” he said and Dean heaved a sigh, patting Castiel’s feet. Castiel took it as the peace offering it was and reached out to pull at Dean’s collar. Dean came willingly until Castiel could kiss him. “But you’ll make up for it. I didn’t think I’d have to dress properly today.” Dean chuckled, giving Castiel a nod.

\--

Eating out was going better than Castiel had anticipated, but he couldn’t help the nervousness he felt when he took Dean out. He hadn’t bothered who did or didn’t see him going out with other people, but being pregnant had added a whole new layer of self-consciousness that hadn’t been there for the longest time.

He was pretty sure that the people didn’t see anything out of the ordinary when Dean and Castiel were out together. He was sure that no one was due any explanation, but he also didn’t want anyone to come up and ask if Dean was the father. He wouldn’t lie, but that was like revealing a big secret Castiel felt like keeping. It was what he had planned on doing from the start, but now he was walking down the street after dinner, his hand in Dean’s.

They were ordinary people, Castiel told himself. Nobody apart from a group of academics and activists did know who he was and nobody but them cared. Well, his family certainly cared too, but they weren’t people to go out on a Friday night.

But when he was tapped on the back while they were waiting in line for an impromptu visit at the cinema, Castiel’s felt like all the blood in his body had come to a standstill.

“Hey Castiel!” He turned around, finding Charlie Bradbury – the doctoral student taking over his classes in December – grinning at him.

“Charlie,” he greeted after finding his voice again. She grinned up at him, not quite ignoring Dean, but not acknowledging him either.

“I didn’t know you’d go out today! We postponed the Harry Potter re-watch because you said you were busy,” she teased.

“You watch Harry Potter?” Dean asked, his voice amused and Castiel kept silent when Charlie laughed. She did look up at Dean now.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t watch anything! Which is why we have our movie dates!” Dean lifted an eyebrow in confusion.

“We’re supposed to go through my notes,” Castiel argued, “I don’t know why we always end up in front of your TV.”

“Sure you don’t and we didn’t spend an evening looking at Lord of the Rings pictures because you wanted a dress like Eowyn’s.”

“I was looking up articles,” Castiel told her, feeling his cheeks heat when Charlie rolled her eyes fondly. He noticed that Dean was awfully quiet, but when he turned his head to the side he found Dean beaming at him.

“Wow, Cas, I’m discovering a new side.”

“Oh, shut up,” Castiel growled, ready to stalk off to get popcorn, but Dean grabbed him by the hips.

“No, no, no. Don’t walk away! You should have said something! I’ve got lots of movies we could watch! I really need someone to re-watch Star Trek with me,” he said and Castiel just frowned, but this got Charlie’s immediate attention for some reason or another.

“Hey, sorry, for not introducing myself!” Charlie said, holding out her hand to Dean. “I’m Charlie.” Castiel wondered if this was how normal people usually got into conversations.

“Dean,” he said, his hand rubbing up and down Castiel’s spine soothingly. The tension hadn’t left Castiel, especially not when she looked from Dean to him and back. But she didn’t ask any question. She did exchange a small smile with Dean though and decided to watch the movie with them instead of going to the screening she had originally come here for.

Charlie spent a great deal talking to Dean about movies and series Castiel really had to see for a variety of very relevant reasons.

“He’s really cute. For a guy I mean,” Charlie told him when she caught him in the toilet, washing his hands.

“Yes,” was all Castiel replied but Charlie had never worried all that much about his monosyllabic answers. She reached out and patted his shoulders.

“Hey, don’t worry… I know you don’t want to plaster his face all over Boulder, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of. You have a cute, funny boyfriend who probably is quite the bomb in bed! You go, girl!” Castiel couldn’t help laughing at that, shaking his head and reapplying his lipstick.

“He is,” Castiel told her and Charlie grinned before following Castiel out of the bathroom.

“And if you join me in my LARP campaign he’d be a really good knight for you. Though I think I’d like him as my handmaiden.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Castiel said, seeing Dean wave at him with a packet of M&Ms.

“Good boyfriend,” Charlie whispered and Castiel slowly sat down next to Dean. Dean offered him the sweets and Castiel took some, watching Dean chew with a grin. By the time the movie cast flickering lights on Dean’s face, Castiel’s insides were twisting and he felt cold in the well aired room. Dean was sweet and kind and Castiel loved having him by his side. But they weren’t boyfriends even though Castiel had a harder and harder time convincing himself of it.

\--

Dean could see that Castiel was tense. He had been quiet and broody ever since they got out of the cinema and while they still enjoyed themselves, Castiel became more withdrawn. He wasn’t sure what was going on inside of Castiel’s head and asking Charlie if anything had happened yielded no helpful answer.

 _“Maybe talk to your boyfriend, genius”_ was all Charlie could give him and Dean thought that maybe that was the point; the whole boyfriend thing.  Dean was reservedly optimistic that even though they hadn’t discussed the matter, they were in fact an item. Why else would Castiel still go about calling him over again and again. If he didn’t want Dean like this then he would have needed to put his foot down and stop them from progressing into what they had now. Maybe Castiel didn’t involve him in any decisions relating to the baby due in 7 weeks, but he certainly did nothing to discourage Dean’s idea of them as a couple. Dean did know that he had to address the topic before he left tomorrow morning, but tonight Castiel had given in to his twin’s pestering and was having him over for dinner. Dean didn’t think it wise to discuss this matter with an audience.

 “Sometimes I feel you’re too invested in my pregnancy,” Castiel said grouchily when their conversation had turned to pregnancy yoga Jimmy made Castiel attend.

“Well, you might be planning everything, playing her music and reading her poetry, but you do have to think about your body too. It’s able to hold her, no questions. But it’s still partially male and all the pregnancy blogs you like to read won’t tell you how to deal with that.”

“I have read accounts on pregnancies like mine before. I know what I’m dealing with and Ezra knows what she’s dealing with.” Dean felt a bit bad listening in on their squabble, so he offered to get them tea and coffee and the plate of cookies Jimmy’s daughter had prepared for them.

“Cas, I know you’re the expert on the field of gender questions, but you can’t just rely on theories here. You’ll have to face the hard facts too. The bodies of people that are like us are never the same. There is not one anatomy you’ll be able to refer to for this, no matter how many ethnographic accounts you’ll read. But you’re my twin. _I_ know what I’m talking about.” Dean got Castiel’s machine to work without any hitches this time, ending up with fragrant coffee scent filling the kitchen. He looked over at the brothers, only to find Castiel eyeing him with a frown.

“Hey, I have brothers, don’t worry. I can deal with you talking this out,” Dean assured him, pulling out his phone while the coffee was filling the mug. Charlie had sent him information about one of her strange events where he was expected to show up so that he could figure out his character. While he had looked up what this so called LARPing business was he had no idea if dressing up and playing pretend was something he was up to.

“We’re not even arguing,” Castiel said, glaring at Jimmy, who just lifted his hands, seeming undisturbed.

“Okay, you two, coffee break,” Dean said, putting tea, coffee and cookies down between the brothers.

“Yes, why not,” Jimmy answered and when Dean was sitting next to Castiel again, his hand rubbing his back, Jimmy turned to him. “Cas told me you were building up a coffee shop?”

“No,” Dean snapped, lowering his eyes at Castiel, whose bad tempter was gone again with the prospect of talking about Dean instead of what his body did while under the pressure of a growing baby. “No, it’s not a… It’s not a coffee shop. Okay? I live in an abandoned apothecary and even though my office is in there as well, I didn’t need the shop. So my roommate turns it into…”

“A coffee shop,” Jimmy provided helpfully when Dean tried to figure out just what exactly it was.

“Whatever. I don’t even want to know anymore. I kind of gave up when they turned up with pink kitchen appliances. Not pastel pink, right? I would have tolerated that. But a glaring, terrible Barbie pink.”

“I still don’t know why you object to regular pink but not to pastel colors,” Castiel told him and Dean decided that he wouldn’t have argument about color biases with Castiel.

“Cas was always rather secretive about your job and Gabriel thinks you’re with the Mafia, so what is it actually?” Jimmy wondered and Dean winced internally at the question, but a quick look at Cas told him that he wasn’t all that unsettled by the question.

“Well, I usually say social worker,” Dean told him, “but I work independently. Cas told me it sounds shady, so I’m mostly keeping my mouth shut about it.”

“It is shady,” Castiel argued, “if the FBI came they’d find a dungeon in your basement!” Dean gave a start, but Jimmy just laughed. Either the guy was on drugs or he didn’t believe him.

“Fine, fine,” Jimmy said, while Dean still tried his best to recover from the shock. He didn’t particularly mind Jimmy knowing, but he doubted he would be as laid back about it as Castiel. Castiel was the one who researched monsters as a hobby, as far as Dean knew, Jimmy was a regular guy who had nothing to do with ghosts and werewolves. He probably had to deal with vampires though since he had a pre-teen daughter and Dean didn’t want to add to his frustrations. “But you’re living in Lawrence, Kansas, right? That’s quite a distance away.”

“8 hours non-stop driving, yes,” Dean told him, unsure where Jimmy was headed with this question.

“And you’re fine with a long distance relationship?” Oh. So that was where this conversation was going. Other than with the question of Dean’s job now Castiel did tense. He could feel it in how Castiel straightened his back underneath Dean’s palm, how the muscles pulled tight and how Castiel didn’t meet his eyes when Dean looked at him for pointers to this question.

Jimmy must have realized that this wasn’t a good topic to discuss, since he made an apologetic grimace at Dean.

“Well, I guess so,” Dean said. “It’s not like I can move now. And I doubt Castiel wants to leave his work and family behind to come live with me.” Jimmy was probably even more careful in observing the way Castiel gave a small nod, rubbing his hands once before hiding them under the table.

“It would be easier if I took a plane, but I’m afraid of flying,” Dean said after a while and that got Jimmy to smile.

“As soon as your coffee shop is open-“ Dean frowned but knew it was a lost cause. “- I’ll come visit you.”

“I think it’ll take us at least until January, since we’re still getting licenses and trying out things. It’s slow going because I’ve got my own work to worry about, without letting myself get distracted by Benny,” Dean explained when it became obvious that Castiel had no inclination of participating in their conversation anymore. It was worrisome, but at least Jimmy shot his brother a small frown.

“So? That means Cas can come with your baby,” he said and Dean saw Jimmy raise his eyebrows at Castiel, who only huffed. Jimmy put his hands down on the table. “Come on, what is it with you? You’ve been in a confrontational mood all evening and now you’re shutting down and seething internally?”

“I’m not confrontational,” Castiel said defensively and Jimmy pointed at him. “Jimmy, please, can we not do this right now?”

“No, not with me here,” Jimmy said and drained his coffee. Dean just watched the exchange in confusion, unsure about why Jimmy was getting up now. “But it’s time to get home anyway, I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” He looked down at his brother, who was now sinking down in his chair and he probably was right about the sulking bit, only that Castiel looked more concerned than petulant. “It was great seeing you again, Dean. You’ve got my number now,” Jimmy said, shaking hands with Dean before he shot Castiel another glare and left.

Dean didn’t move from his spot until he heard the door close, then he turned around to look down at Castiel.

“So?”

“No,” Castiel said, then he heaved himself up and out of the chair. “I apologize for Jimmy’s behavior.”

“Why would you? Wasn’t he right?” Dean asked, watching Castiel slowly making his way over to the living room, where he sat down again. Dean followed him, kneeling on the floor in front of Castiel. “This is about us. Isn’t it?” Castiel averted his eyes and Dean sighed heavily. “I wanted to talk to you about it anyway before I’m leaving. Jimmy left so we could get this out in the open, so maybe we should.”

Castiel put his hands on his knees, folding them and looking down at Dean with an expression that Dean was afraid to call sorrowful.

“We’re in a relationship, Cas,” Dean said and Castiel lowered his head, but still kept his eyes on Dean. “We’ve been before and you told me to leave. I did. I still regret leaving you as easily as I did, with not talking it through, but then you called me back. _You_ called me back, Cas.”

“I know,” Castiel said and Dean lowered his brows, opening his mouth on a protest at the small, silent confession. It was not what Dean wanted to hear and he wasn’t sure whether to feel angry or disappointed or maybe even hopeful that the little “I know” meant Castiel was giving in. It was unlikely though and Dean was clenching his fists in the carpet.

“Okay, so let me tell you my side,” Dean said. He didn’t want to do this kneeling, so he rose and sat down on the couch next to Castiel. “You’re it for me, Cas. And I think what we’re doing here is what Jimmy called it: we’re trying to make a long-distance relationship work. And I’m in, Cas. In for the relationship, in for trying to figure out what we’ll do to keep together in the long run and I’m in to be there for our baby. I know I went into this because I needed the money and was foolish enough to think that there would be no strings attached.”

“There shouldn’t have been, we’ve been clear about that. I’ve been clear about that,” Castiel argued, shaking his head.

“But there was chemistry there, Cas. Right from the start and we might have not done anything about that and went on with our lives. But we did. You let me in and I got comfortable around you.” Castiel huffed humorlessly at that, shaking his head and looking up at the ceiling.

“That makes it sound like you’re a stray cat or that it was my fault that we’re here now,” he said, then he lifted his hands and put them on his stomach, rubbing slowly. Dean instantly reached out when he heard Castiel breathe deep and evenly. “Everything’s okay. It’s just something I do to calm down,” Castiel assured him, but Dean was still reluctant to take away his hand until Castiel turned his head to look at him.

“That’s not what I mean, Cas. It’s not your fault, but we’re in this together now. And I just want to know how you think this will continue.” Castiel remained silent and Dean gave his shoulder a squeeze before he let it go. “Do you or do you not want to be together?”

“I want to be together,” Castiel said and Dean saw the “but” coming. He saw it in the way Castiel’s face changed from irritated to pained and in the way how he swallowed his next words down.

“Okay, so we’re together,” Dean said. “Cas, you can’t have one thing and not the other!” Dean clenched his hands on his knees, anger and frustration making every word he wanted to say feel heavy and and callous on his tongue. “I know that you paid me, Cas. I know that you were my “job”,” he said the word with as much contempt as he could muster, making Castiel widen his eyes at him. But he remained silent and stoic, not inching back, but not lashing out either. “And that grates on me! The moment you paid me I felt sick. But it was what we had agreed upon after all and that was fine. But this time. The last few months, Cas. That was on different terms.”

“I have never said-“

“You don’t need to _say_ , Cas! Come on!” Dean fought the urge to jump up and pace the room, but he knew it would only make him seem more aggressive and wounded than he already was. “I let you initiate everything, keeping my distance because I wasn’t sure what you wanted me to be for you. But it was obvious to me that you did want me as a boyfriend and hell, I was ecstatic!”

“I did want to be close to you, but I can’t have that kind of commitment, Dean!” Castiel argued. “Time and time again I’ve been told I had to have a husband, I had to have a partner, I had to have a father for my child! And I won’t. Dean I have to do this on my own!”

“Then do it on your own! Shit, Cas! I’m not an object for you to use whenever you feel like it!” Dean shouted, making Castiel flinch for the first time. Dean immediately regretted it and he continued in a much calmer voice, but he wasn’t less agitated by how stubborn Castiel was being about this. “I’m not making an 8 drive every other week because you need someone to fuck. I’m not doing all this shit just so you can play house for as long as you need to! This is real, Cas! I’m here because I’m in love with you and try my very best to be a good and supporting partner for you. But you’re being an absolute asshole about this!” Castiel was visibly shaken by what Dean was telling him, moving slightly to turn towards Dean. “You can’t be so selfish! Did you really think I keep coming back to you because I get a kick out of pretending that we’re a couple? Do you think I enjoy knowing that you’re trying so hard to keep me a secret?!”

“Dean, I didn’t mean to be cruel,” Castiel told him and Dean did jump up then, unsure what he would do if Castiel put a comforting hand on his shoulder. He turned away from Castiel, pressing his fist against his lips and keeping silent, but his breathing was loud in the room. “Dean…”

“I need you to decide,” Dean said after a while, looking over his shoulder. Castiel looked miserable and wet-eyed, but he wasn’t crying.

“I want you to be there when she’s born,” Castiel said and Dean turned around, leaning back against the wall. “Please. But I have to prove this to myself and everyone else… I don’t need you, Dean. But I’d be very happy if you were there with me.”

“So you’re breaking up with me,” Dean concluded. “You’re breaking up with me because you want to show the world that you need no man at your side to be a competent person.”

“You make it sound ridiculous, Dean. But it’s very important to me.” Dean had no idea how Castiel could be so calm about this when clearly their relationship was falling apart a second time. “Maybe I’ll be ready for you later, but maybe I won’t ever be.”

“I can’t do this again Cas,” Dean told him and Castiel nodded, lifting himself up from the couch with some difficulty. “If you make me go now, then I’ll be there for the birth. But no more of this play pretend. Either you’re with me or you’re not.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel whispered and Dean shook his head.

“Okay,” he said, walking past Castiel. His head was pounding, his throat was scratchy and his eyes burned. He was crying by the time he had his suitcase packed and he didn’t even care that he must have sounded pathetic when he said his goodbyes. Castiel just swallowed and nodded. He didn’t kiss him or touch him and Dean felt ridiculous and disappointed. This was the person he was in love with, a selfish, cowardly person. Dean knew that his judgment was clouded by the heartache, but he only grunted when Castiel told him he’d call when it was time. Dean sat down in his car and didn’t watch Castiel close the door. He took his phone and made a call.

“Hey, sorry for the surprise call. Do you have a couch for me?”

 _“Are you crying?”_ Charlie’s surprised voice almost made Dean chuckle, but instead he just turned his key in the ignition, taking a bit of solace in the welcoming roar of the engine.

“Kind of,” he muttered.

 _“There’s a bed, a bucket of ice cream and a Star Trek rerun with your name on it waiting at my place,”_ Charlie said and Dean would have thanked her, but nothing but an embarrassing strangled sob escaped him _. “Oh, Dean. I’m so sorry,”_ she said, _“I also have a good shoulder, so hurry up.”_

It was ridiculous, Dean thought a bit later when the sting of bitterness wasn’t so sharp anymore, to have an almost stranger comfort him. But he didn’t know what else to do but curl up around her and not care.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean’s mom took one look at him listlessly slouching around the not coffee shop, before she pulled him out of the way of Lucy trying to add flowers to the repainted, uneven brick wall.

“I’m in love, but he doesn’t want me,” was probably the most pathetic way he could break the news to her, but he always got weak when she enveloped him in a silent, protective hug.

“You had a boyfriend in Colorado?” Mary asked, making Dean sit down in his office chair. He still had a few cases to deal with later today, but he felt like sitting on the swing outside, letting the November chill soak up his warmth like a ghost.

“Yeah… Though he didn’t want the commitment. Failed marriage, pressure of society… I don’t know. He just didn’t want me,” Dean told her. The last time he had talked to his mom about his heart-ache was after the first girl he had ever loved, before that and after he had known to keep things mostly to himself. Sex he was good at, but dealing with the emotions that came with a serious attachment was still painfully difficult.

“I’m sorry, Dean… You obviously care about him a lot,” she said, reaching out to brush her palm over Dean’s cheek. “Why didn’t you tell me about him?”

“Because I…,” Dean wrinkled his nose, unsure if he should tell her about this now. “Do you know E.C. Novak?” he asked instead. His mother raised her brows in confusion, but after a while she nodded. “He _is_ E.C. Novak,” Dean continued watching his mother’s face change from confusion to surprise. He knew he had said something wrong when Mary made a grab for Dean’s hands.

“ _You’re_ the mystery father?!” she shouted and Dean would probably have jumped out of his chair in shock if she hadn’t been holding on to him.

“What’s with this family?!” he yelled instead. “Don’t you have anything other to do than read gossip magazines?!”

“Well, he is one of the major supporters of current equality debates and I do care about the issues he addresses.” Dean groaned, covering his face with his palms. Mary reached out and put her fingers around Dean’s wrist. “But Dean… Dean, you’re going to be a father!” Mary’s voice broke on the last word and there was nothing Dean would have rather done than hide from that quiver in her voice and the wide eyed wonder on his mother’s face.

“No. No, Cas doesn’t want there to be a father,” Dean said and Mary sighed, but she nodded. Dean wondered why everybody understood why Castiel made the choice he did. Clearly, they both weren’t happy with what Castiel’s odd conviction meant for their relationship. “For a while I thought that I could really have it. But I’m never going to be her dad.”

“It’s a girl?” Mary asked silently, keeping calm even though Dean felt like throwing a chair through the window in frustration.

“Yes,” Dean said with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Cas is due in 7 weeks and despite everything he asked me to be there for the birth…”

“You should be, Dean,” Mary said. “She’s your daughter. Even if you can’t be there for her like you want to be, you should take this one moment. Nobody will be able to take that memory away from you.” Dean sighed.

“Yes… I know. I know…” Mary smiled at him, then she reached out over the table to put her hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“I’m still happy for you, Dean. Whatever happens,” she said. Dean didn’t trust himself to reply to the warmth of his mother’s voice. At least not without sounding like a wounded little child, so he nodded and decided to believe in what his mother was telling him.

\--

November passed faster than Dean thought it would. Everyone seemed to pick up on the rather subdued mood Dean was in. And everyone seemed to think that the best way to get Dean out of his emotional funk was to keep him busy.

Benny, who slept far too little for Dean’s tastes, pulled him out of bed when Dean just wanted to keep sleeping. Lucy dropped by almost every day and made him help pick out things for the shop whenever he wasn’t working. But then came early December and he was working a lot because of a sudden peak of monster activity that only ever happened around holidays, including lots of desperate people wanting to make demon deals. While Bela accepted some (she was a demon after all and there was only so much gratification to be had in amassing valuable objects), she redirected others to Dean. Dealing with human problems was really not Dean’s field, but sometimes a cup of coffee and a long talk helped setting some people straight or getting them the non-demonic help they needed.

“If there would have been people like you around,” Bela told him, leaning against the doorframe and drinking her coffee there. “I might have turned out to be a decent human being.” The way she said it was with a depreciating sneer, but Dean knew enough about demons by now to guess at the pain hiding in her statement.

“You’re making be blush,” Dean said with a snort, watching the rather quiet road before them. Only a few people were mingling about, collars high against the chilly wind. “I don’t know, Bela… I don’t know if I’m making a difference.”

“What’s with that gloomy mood? Of course you are. You just saved someone from 10 years of peace and an eternity of hell after that and you wonder if you’re making a difference?” Bela asked him, reaching up to hit him over the head. Since she was a demon it hurt more than Dean thought necessary and he almost hit his nose against the rim of his coffee cup. “You really need to get laid, Dean.” Dean glared at her, making Bela laugh into her coffee. “I know, your love ruined you for unattached, carnal pleasure.”

“That’s not true,” Dean muttered angrily, but when Bela raised her eyebrow at him challengingly, he had nothing more to say. “Look. Once December is over and this shop is open, things will be different.”

“Of course they will,” Bela said and there was no mocking expression on her face when he looked up, just a small, genuine smile. “It’ll be a new year.” Dean looked at her in surprise, but then he leant back against the wall, looking up at the cloudy December sky.

\--

Winchester Christmas was always a bit of an odd endeavor, but something Dean used to look forward to. On the road with his dad they drank together in silence, maybe still with graveyard dirt or blood under the nails or cuts healing painfully. His mom had a different idea about celebrating Christmas and Dean was glad that the warm and homely scents of Christmas were filling his entire building, the shop carefully prepared for its first party before its opening in less than a month. He had managed to get his act together and sent a card and present to Lisa and Ben, the first attempt at an apology and reconnection since he had run away from them almost 9 months ago. He didn’t think that anything would come of it, but now that the birth of Castiel’s child was getting so close, he couldn’t help thinking about the other family life he could have had. But Ben did call him, frantic and excited. Lisa was a bit calmer, a bit more wary on the phone, but she thanked him for the presents and the card and there was an “I forgive you” in the “Merry Christmas” that Dean couldn’t be more grateful for.

Sam and their half-brother Adam both came to visit too, but Adam wasn’t all that keen on meeting monsters, so he kept close to Mary most of the time.

“I still can’t quite believe that you’re doing this. But I guess it’s better than killing monsters for a living,” he said to Dean, who shrugged with a grin. “Dad dropped by earlier in the year. He was a bit odd about this.”

“Was he?” Dean asked, trying to mask the pang of worry he felt with a cocky grin. Adam gave his punch an odd look before taking a sip, almost as if he were afraid that Benny or Lucy had spiked it with blood.

“I don’t know why he can’t just talk to you about it directly,” Adam continued, looking up at Dean, “but he did seem proud in his own way. You’re saving people, that’s got to count for something even in a hunter’s black and white world.” Dean wasn’t quite sure how to react to that, so he shot Adam an unconvincing grin, before he excused himself to get a bit of silence in the back of his office. For some reason Sam was waiting for him, sitting on the swing outside, bunched up in a winter jacket that made him look bulkier than he already was, with snow in his hair and pink cheeks.

“Hey,” he called and Dean cautiously opened the door to get into the backyard. Sam was turning something around in his hands, it seemed to be a small box wrapped in newspapers. Dean couldn’t help grinning.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked and Sam held up the present without answering. “Why couldn’t you give it to me inside?” Sam shook his head, sighing lightly. Dean looked at him with a small amount of concern, but then turned to the gift and pulled the wrapping off.

“I know it’s too early… But I still think that you could need it. Even though you’re a jerk for not telling me.” Dean looked down at the cup in his hand. It was a simple white with the insides painted in forest green with little pale green dots lining the rim. He turned it in his palms even though he already had a pretty good idea what he’d find.

“Dad,” he read and huffed, even though he felt his chest tightening. His throat felt scratchy when he looked at Sam. “Is that you’re way of telling me you’re having my baby, Sammy?” Sam kicked at the ground, sending some of the dirty slush flying at Dean. “Thank you,” he said, silently, watching his brother nod.

“I think you need to have it. I know how bad this is gnawing at you,” Sam told him and Dean lowered his gaze. He heard Sam rummage inside his pocket, the metallic click of keys knocking at each other following. “I found a job here. I’m already moving. So you’ll have a resident lawyer taking care of your clients.” Dean looked up at Sam in surprise, finding him grinning brightly. “You’re welcome,” he said when Dean didn’t find anything to say to that. He set the mug aside carefully and Sam got up to give him a hug.

“Thank you, little brother.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt your moment.” Dean looked up, finding Benny look out of the door. “But your phone was ringing, Dean.” Dean nodded, letting go of his brother with a pat before he went to collect his mug and stepped inside. Benny had put his phone on the desk and both Sam and Dean left him to it.

 _“Hello Dean.”_ Dean had to draw a deep breath when he heard that voice again.

“Hey, Cas. Merry Christmas,” he said silently. He closed the door to his office, shutting out the already muffled noises of the party. On the other end of the phone he could also hear a bit of noise.

 _“Merry Christmas,”_ Castiel replied. _“This is the first quiet moment I have, I apologize for not calling earlier.”_

“That’s okay, man,” Dean said, trying to keep his voice even and easy even though he was tense, feeling the sense of loss quite keenly. “How are you?”

 _“Well. Thank you. I’m heading out to the hospital now,”_ he said and Dean almost dropped his phone.

“Is it-“

_“No. Not yet. I felt a bit uneasy today and Jimmy told me it’s best to be ready. I’m sorry, I know it’s Christmas and you probably celebrate with your family. I understand if you can’t come.”_

“I’ll come, Cas,” Dean vowed. He was already making his way upstairs, packing quickly and efficiently.

 _“Thank you.”_ It was only a small whisper and Castiel terminated his call before Dean could say more. Blunt and abrupt as always, but Dean had gotten used to it.

Mary was looking at him in surprise when Dean showed up with the duffel bag over his shoulder.

“Can you drive me to the airport?” he asked silently, trying not to draw too much attention. It wasn’t all that unusual that Dean disappeared suddenly, cases came up all the time. But most people didn’t know just what he was getting ready for now. His mother nodded and Sam stopped him just before he got into his car.

“Good luck,” Sam said and gave his shoulder a squeeze, probably feeling the nervous tremors going through him. He laughed lightly when he saw Dean’s wide eyed stare. “Oh, for God’s sake,” he said and opened the door, getting in as well. Dean only muttered something intelligible but grateful, sinking down in his chair.

\--

They were lucky to get a flight almost right away and while Sam went to book them a hotel and get himself a set of spare clothes, Dean texted Castiel to ask about where he had to be. He wasn’t at the hospital, but a small clinic. He was unsure what to do, because it was 2 AM, but he could see the light switching on in the entrance hall and a woman with short, red hair opening the door.

“You’re Dean Winchester?” she asked, looking him up and down rather unimpressed. Dean knew he didn’t look all that great with his heart hammering in his rib cage, having puked out most of Christmas dinner on the way here. But she still smiled slightly when he stumbled over the threshold. “There, there. I’ll get you a cup of coffee for your nerves. It’s not even time yet to be a wreck,” she said and left him in front of an ajar door. Delivery room was written on a wooden board attached to the door. He took a breath and pushed the door all the way open. Dean had expected a typical hospital room, but it looked more like a rather spacious bedroom instead. Most of the room was cleared of furniture, the bed, desk and armchairs arranged around the walls, leaving the middle free. There was a yoga mat on the floor, currently unoccupied. Castiel was sitting on a stability ball, typing away on a laptop.

“Hey,” Dean said breathlessly, letting his duffle bag drop to the floor. Castiel looked up and pulled the headphones out of his ears. He looked surprised, but soon there was a grateful smile on his lips. Dean shuffled a bit closer, coming to stand next to the bed. He felt like he had to keep his distance.

“I didn’t think you’d be here so fast! Did you take a plane?” Castiel asked, closing the laptop and turning around on the ball a little. He was moving up and down slowly, reaching behind him to put his hand in the small of his back. His belly was huge; even under the loose shirt he was wearing it looked massive.

“Yes,” he replied, his eyes still on Castiel’s stomach. “That must be a really big baby inside.” Castiel laughed, using his free hand to rub the lower part of his stomach.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, Dean,” Castiel said with a small chuckle. The woman came back in with a tray, holding a coffee pot and mugs. “This is Ezra, she’ll deliver the baby. Ezra, this is Dean.” Ezra handed Dean a mug, eying him again.

“Well, I’m sure if he’s slept a bit and doesn’t look like he’ll vomit any second he’s pretty handsome,” Ezra said and Dean couldn’t quite muster the nerve to be offended. “I guess you’ll drink your coffee and then you’ll get some sleep. I’ve got a spare bed for nervous daddies next door.” She looked over at Castiel, casting a stern eye over the laptop. “You too, sugar. Get sleep while you still can. You can do your professor stuff after you’re done with the baby having.” With this she bid them both a good night, leaving the door slightly ajar. Dean drank his coffee in silence, feeling himself relaxing just slightly.

“What will happen now? How does it work?” Dean asked after a while of silence. Castiel was still bouncing slightly, but now he stopped.

“The tissue closing the birth channel dissolved which is good since we don’t have to cut it open the rest of the way. Maybe we’ll have to initiate labor, but if we’re lucky my body will work just fine on its own,” Castiel explained. “I’m not looking forwards to it.”

“Yeah, I get that… Isn’t anyone else here? For hand holding purposes?” Dean wondered. Castiel shrugged lightly.

“I don’t quite want them to see me that way… If labor hasn’t started by daybreak I’ll call them, but otherwise I’d prefer it to be just Ezra, you and me.” Dean nodded, not sure whether to feel grateful that this was a private moment Castiel didn’t want to share with everyone, or if it put more pressure on him. It didn’t quite matter, he was just glad to be here, leaning against the bed.

“I guess I should really catch some sleep,” Castiel said and Dean walked up to him, slowly putting his hand on Castiel’s back and helping him up.

“Okay?” he asked carefully, not sure how much he was allowed to do.

“Yes,” Castiel replied, letting himself be helped to the bed and into it. Dean rubbed his shoulder before he bid Castiel good night. “Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean turned around, hand on the light switch.

“Thank you that you came. I’m really grateful,” Castiel told him. Dean held his gaze for a while, but then he ducked his head and switched off the light.

“I promised after all,” he whispered, then he went into the next room, finding it to be small, but holding a bed and a tiny en-suite bathroom. He changed into something more comfortable and dropped down on the bed. It was pretty long until he could fall asleep, thoughts whirling around what would happen in that room on the other side of the wall once the day would dawn.

\--

Dean stumbled into the room in half a panic. The late December sun didn’t quite push through the layer of dirty clouds, but it was enough to signal him that it was morning. He wasn’t sure what the time was.

“Easy there,” Ezra called when Dean stubbed his toe on the threshold. He hissed, but regained his composure and tried to take in the state of the room. Castiel was sitting at the desk, a light breakfast before him. Ezra was writing down something on a chart and she was quite calm. And then there was that Gabriel guy, sitting on Castiel’s bed and eating candy.

“Hey there, Dean,” Gabriel said, winking at him.

“It hasn’t started yet,” Castiel told him with a small smile. “I would have woken you, don’t worry.” Dean heaved a sigh, scratching his head. “You can take a shower, Dean.”

“Yeah, I… I might just-“ He gave up on trying to be coherent, the stutter embarrassing enough and went back to his room.

A cold shower did wonders and he felt a bit more composed when he was washed and dressed.

“Hasn’t started yet,” he texted Sam, who was apparently going sight-seeing, so Dean told him to call up Charlie. The two of them had already met before, since Charlie had no problems boarding a plane to surprise him.

Gabriel was still there when Dean returned, but had moved to an armchair opposite Castiel. Ezra was nowhere to be seen.

“Hey, Dean. We were just discussing names, how about you come and listen in?” Gabriel said. Dean shot an unsure look towards Castiel, but since he received a nod he approached them, sitting down next to Castiel. He was shifting slightly on his ball, pressing his knuckles into his lower back, so Dean pushed his hand away to replace it with his own. He massaged the tense muscles there and the light, but regular pressure made Castiel sigh happily.

“So what’s on the cards? What have you thought about?”

“Nothing, actually, and this is the problem,” Gabriel said, frowning when Castiel just shrugged. “You’ll have a baby, maybe even at the end of today and you don’t even have a name ready. You’re the sloppiest mother to be I know,” he chided.

“Nothing? No idea?” Dean asked, lightly scratching his nails down the lower part of Castiel’s spine, making him shiver.

“I thought about doing something similar as Jimmy,” he said after a while. “Having Claire was the one thing he wanted to do with the body he had received. He said it was closure for him and a new start to just be the man he had always wanted to be.”

“He named Claire after his other name. Just like Emmanuel Castiel here, his parents had given him the arguable honor of being called James Claribel.” Dean couldn’t help the incredulous burst of laughter. “Hippies, man.”

“It’s not closure for me though,” Castiel said, shaking his head. “I’m fine with being who I am. Both names hold good and bad memories for me.”

“But you’re Cas,” Dean said, still rubbing his hand up and down Castiel’s back, while Cas was putting his hand on his stomach. He was bouncing a bit slower than before, almost in time with Dean’s hand. “That’s what you always had me call you.”

“Yes… Yes, I think I prefer that name now,” he admitted, but then he frowned slightly, making a small noise of discomfort. “Everything okay?” Dean asked in concern.

“Yes,” Castiel said, breathing out slowly. “I’m not sure if that was a contraction though,” he said.

“I think you’re having your child now,” Gabriel announced solemnly and Castiel shot him a glare. “Sorry. I’ll go get Ezra, see if that bun’s ready.” Castiel shook his head, but when Gabriel was out of the room he leant back against Dean’s hand.

“I actually want you to name her,” Castiel confessed before Dean could ask if he was still in pain. Dean looked at him in surprise and Castiel blushed slightly at receiving such an incredulous stare. “I know that you care about us both, Dean. You’re still her father, even though I decided to raise her on my own.”

“O… okay,” Dean said, unsure what kind of reply he should give. But then Gabriel was back with Ezra and they moved Castiel to the bed. Gabriel excused himself, leaving the room, but Dean stayed behind, sitting down next to the bed and watching.

“Good, we’re starting,” Ezra announced after a while, gently rubbing Castiel’s thighs. “It will take a while, so just try to relax and wait this out.”

“What do you mean wait this out?” Dean wanted to know, even though Castiel nodded patiently. Ezra laughed.

“Boy, it does take a couple of hours. We don’t want to rush this. Just hold his hand and sit it through. You’ll have a beautiful girl by the end of today,” she promised. “I’ll get you something to drink,” she said, then she left them alone.

“Are you sure this is the right way of doing it?” Dean asked nervously. Castiel sat up again, reaching out to take Dean’s hand in his, patting it lightly. “Shit, sorry. I’m just-“

“I’m scared too, but Ezra was right. We’ll just have to let it happen,” Castiel assured him, giving his hand a light squeeze. Dean wasn’t convinced at all, but he nodded. Castiel smiled, then he pulled at Dean’s hand to put it over his stomach. “It’ll be fine.” Dean felt the warmth radiating from Castiel’s stomach and he sighed heavily before taking a deep breath.

“Okay.” Castiel smiled and leant to the side slowly until he had his head resting on Dean’s shoulder. Dean guessed that these were special circumstances and that the kiss he pressed to Castiel’s head was allowed. They were having a baby after all.

\--

Dean had sat through different moments of people suffering before his eyes, sometimes he could help, something he was left to watch. He held Castiel’s hand even though he had felt like bolting out of the door the moment it had really started. Castiel took the pain with an incredible measure of control, mostly he just clenched his teeth and waited for the pain to ease up. That was when Dean had been at his most nervous, but once Castiel actually started to scream, hoarse and mostly through clenched teeth, some switch was turned inside of Dean. He stopped fidgeting, he stopped babbling and he stopped typing panicked text messages to everyone.

 _“There’s a tincture Amazons are said to use. It’s easy to make.”_ It seemed like a miracle his dad had replied, but at the moment Dean was glad he had something to do. Ezra wasn’t with them all the time, so Dean took the moment to lean in close to Castiel and brushed his lips against his sweaty brow.

“My dad knows something to help. Just some herb mixture. I could get it ready in 10 minutes if I can find a fancy grocery store.” Castiel took a deep breath and looked up at him with a skeptical frown. “No dark magic or demonic worship, I promise,” he said and Castiel snorted in amusement, but gave him directions to a store.

“If the baby comes before you’re back I’ll be angry.” Dean pressed another kiss to Castiel’s forehead and promised to be quick.

“No, this will take at least another 5 hours, it’s fine to get some fresh air,” Ezra told him on his way out, phone pressed to her ear, “and get me a decent coffee while you’re at it.”

5 hours seemed like a terribly long time to spend in constant pain, so Dean did his best to get everything needed, mixing it carefully until he was left with a small bowl of an odd smelling lime green paste. He handed Ezra her cup of coffee.

“Woah, show me that hand of yours! Did you cut yourself?” Ezra asked and Dean held out his hand with an impatient frown. He had wrapped his handkerchief around his palm - there were very little spells that didn’t need at least a bit of blood after all. Ezra quickly cleaned it and put a plaster on it, before sending him on his way. “You’re lucky you’re cute, you klutz.”

“Okay, can you roll onto your side?” Dean asked, when walked back into the delivery room, carefully shutting the door behind him. Castiel shot him a doubtful look, but he did slowly turn and Dean pulled up the gown he was wearing. “I hope I’m doing this right,” he muttered and started rubbing small circles on the base of his spine. Castiel wiggled against his touch a bit and Dean wondered if it felt unpleasant. But after a while he heard Castiel sigh silently. “Does it work?”

“It’s better, yes,” Castiel admitted and Dean helped him turn on his back. “Thank you.”

“My dad told me about it. Apparently Amazons use it to ease childbirth,” Dean explained. Castiel nodded pensively, but then he reached out to take Dean’s hand in his again.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said and Dean smiled at him. “Even though you made me nervous the last couple of hours.”

“Yes, I’m sorry,” Dean said apologetically, but Castiel just shook his head, a small smile on his lips.

“Okay, kids, let’s check up on you two,” Ezra said, but made an odd face when she got inside. “What’s that smell?”

“Chewing gum, sorry,” Dean said and while Ezra fixed him with a frown, she shrugged soon after and went to check on Castiel.

“Everything’s alright,” she said and smiled up at Dean and Castiel. “You’ll have her with you soon.”

\--

Dean wasn’t sure what exactly he was doing, but Ezra had pulled him away from where he had been glued to Castiel’s shoulder, swapping places. Ezra helped Castiel sit up, supporting his back, while Dean’s wide eyed stare was fixed on her.

“Oh, did you think you could sit here and not do anything? Time to get that babe, daddy,” she said with a grin and Dean wasn’t sure what he expected of this woman who had helped Castiel’s hippie parents deliver both him and Jimmy (in the open, surrounded by flowers and the vibrant red leaves of autumn trees as Ezra had proudly told him). But Ezra turned the radio up a bit and even Castiel looked slightly unsure about Dean sitting between his legs now. But there was not much time to be bemused by Ezra’s odd way of getting this baby delivered because Castiel really wanted this child out now and Dean had no other choice but to yelp and react instinctively.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean shouted and he really wished that the first words he spoke to his daughter had been slightly more dignified, but they were drowned out by shrill crying and Ezra clapping to the beat of the song.

“Well done, parents! Well done!” she said and kissed Castiel’s sweat slick cheek. Dean looked up at Castiel, but he had his eyes shut and tried to regain his breathing. Ezra checked on Dean, whose  hands were shaking, but in no danger of letting the baby fall to the mattress. Without comment she severed the umbilical cord.

“We’ll wash all that yucky stuff off her and see that there’s everything we need,” Ezra said, but she didn’t take the wailing, wet, bloody baby out of Dean’s arms, she merely gave him a nudge and he turned towards the basin of warm water Ezra had already prepared. While Dean watched she slowly sprinkled water on the infant, wiping her down and then wrapping the baby in a fluffy blanket to dry her a bit. Dean had a hard time taking his eyes off her scrunched up, pink face or the quivering arms she had out of the blanket, making tiny fists, even when Ezra took her out of his arms for a second to check her weight and height. “Looks like a perfectly healthy little girl to me,” Ezra said, reaching for the Polaroid camera to snap a picture of the baby and then one of Dean holding her. She grunted in amusement when she looked at the picture, but Dean was enraptured by the baby and couldn’t care less whether he was a photogenic dad or not.

Castiel was looking at him by the time he finally did return to his side, baby still in his arms. Castiel turned his head on the pillow, looking at Dean with a tired, but gentle smile. Dean couldn’t help it; he had tears and snot running down his face, his daughter in his arms and Castiel was smiling at him.

“I love you,” he said hoarsely and kissed him. Castiel returned the kiss and Dean could still feel that content, victorious smile in the soft shape of his mouth.

\--

Ezra kept them in her clinic overnight and nothing much stuck of the following day, apart from an embarrassing episode of Sam crying about being an uncle and Dean crying because Sam’s tears were infectious (or so Dean claimed). But once morning dawned on the second day Ezra proclaimed Castiel and the baby to be totally healthy and Castiel healed enough to travel. There was no reason why the new family couldn’t go home. She ordered them a taxi and sent them off with kisses and a big grin. Castiel was drifting between sleep and wakefulness, but his arms kept a tight hold on the baby. She wasn’t kicking up much of a fuss and slept almost all the time.

“Have you thought of a name?” Castiel asked when he was lying on his bed, the baby on his chest dozing. Dean had a tray of breakfast which he carried into his room. “I must have dozens of messages, asking if she’s born yet,” Castiel continued and bent his head slightly so he could kiss the blonde mess of fuzzy hair on her head. Dean had thought babies to be mostly bald but the girl had quite a bit of hair, even though it was so light that it was hard to actually see. “I want this moment for us.” Dean felt the same and he was still full of wonder for the little thing on Castiel’s chest. He didn’t want to break this silent and comfortable cocoon all too soon. He sat down on the bed next to Castiel, so he could put his fingertip against the girl’s pudgy cheek.

“Yes… I think I know her name,” Dean finally said, making Castiel look up at him with curiosity. Dean smiled down at the baby, who made a faint grab for Dean’s finger. “Emma.”

“Emma?” Castiel asked, quite surprised and for a moment Dean feared that Castiel hated it. But then Castiel turned his head around and smiled at him. His eyes were shining with unshed tears and adoration. “Yes, you’re right. That is her name,” he said and then he tilted his head up. The intention was clear and Dean was sorely tempted. But he pressed his mouth to Castiel’s forehead instead. When Dean drew back Cas seemed to be a bit disappointed, his eyes sad and tired. But this had been his choice and Dean couldn’t do it again. He had vowed to himself that it wouldn’t happen again. “Thank you,” Castiel said after a while and Dean nodded at him. “For everything.”

\--

Dean only got out of Castiel’s house after he had made the necessary phone calls, announcing the birth of Emma Novak to his family. Dean had been able to hold her a while, rocking her gently when she started being fussy. She was a wonderful, beautiful little thing and Dean knew that there was no way that he wouldn’t try his very best to support and protect her, even from afar, even if Castiel wanted him to remain a secret forever.

“You could stay here, Dean,” Castiel told him, Emma wrapped in a bundle of blankets against the December chill. Dean was already on the pathway leading away from the house, but he turned around again, to smile sadly up at Castiel.

“You know I can’t, but thank you,” he said watching Castiel’s face fall. He did open his mouth to protest, but nothing came out. “I’ll stay here for a while, to make sure that you’re settled. Just call me when you need my help with anything.”

“When will you be leaving again?” Castiel asked and he sounded almost timid even though Dean wasn’t entirely sure why.

“I don’t want to leave” was on the tip of Dean’s tongue, but he was sure that Castiel knew and that he only needed to say the words to make him stay forever. But they didn’t pass Castiel’s lips, so Dean didn’t say what he meant to say. “Couple of days? Once my brother gets tired of Colorado and the cases start piling up on my desk.” Castiel nodded, still looking unhappy, but he said his goodbyes, pressed his lips to Emma’s forehead and went back inside. Dean heaved a sigh, then he made his way back to the hotel where Sam was waiting for him.

\--

It was odd waking up with the knowledge that out there was a child that was his flesh and blood. Dean felt that it should change everything about his life, but he didn’t feel particularly different. There was a growing, numb ache within his chest. He felt hollowed out and brittle, like a single push or a single too strong, emotional hug from Sam could make him crumble. But that was something he had to force down. He knew that Emma was going to be there, even though it wasn’t clear how Dean would exist in her life. If he was to be just a vague concept that Emma understood but didn’t care about or if he would be a Dad to her, someone who wasn’t there, but maybe sent her cards and birthday presents and someone she might want to see when she was old enough for Castiel to no longer put his foot down. He didn’t know. All he knew was that he had to cover up his pain a bit better. He knew that he was spoiling the joy of the few days he did have with his fear of separation.

“You’ve got to talk to Castiel about how it’s going to continue,” Sam urged with him, but Dean didn’t really want to talk about this in the open. The waitress was pouring them coffee, sending Dean an inquiring look. Dean prided himself in knowing that he was dressed quite sharply for someone who felt like going through a very difficult divorce. And that was it, somehow. He felt pathetic and Eve reached out to pet his hair wordlessly before she left again.

“Yeah,” was all Dean said and busied himself with a coffee. Sam made an exasperated sound.

“You’re her father,” he reminded him and Dean glared at him over the rim of his coffee cup.

“Really? I wouldn’t have noticed,” he said humorlessly, which had Sam huff and lean back in his chair. “But however much I hate it, this is Cas’ call.” Sam didn’t say anything anymore and Dean decided it was time to focus on his lunch. It was the last day of the year and there was no point in trying to make it back home today. They’d stay up, drink beer and would take the flight back tomorrow when Dean still had some of the alcohol to numb his fear. Sam had said yes to everything Dean suggested with almost infinite patience.

“I kind of wish I could see Emma before we leave,” Sam said out of the blue and Dean looked up at him. “Your description of cute, pink and pudgy didn’t quite give me a good image of my niece.” Dean couldn’t help laughing at that, but before he could think of a better explanation he noticed someone approaching them.

“Gabriel,” he greeted and Gabriel sat down next to Sam. “Yeah, seat’s free. Nice to see you too.”

“Don’t be such a drama queen,” Gabriel told him. He looked over at Sam. “Boyfriend?”

“Brother,” Sam said with an offended snort. “I’m Sam.” Gabriel clicked his tongue, then he turned back to Dean, ignoring Sam’s bewildered look.

“What’s up?” Dean asked, watching Gabriel drum his fingers on the table top, before he nodded at Dean.

“First, I guess congratulations,” he said, reaching out his hand for Dean to shake.

“Uh, thank you,” Dean mumbled in confusion.

“Secondly, I’m playing messenger today. Cas is awkward about this, but he would like to invite you both to dinner and quiet little New Year’s celebration as a thanks.”

“What, really?” Dean asked in surprise, not missing how Sam’s face instantly lit up at the prospect of being able to meet Emma. Gabriel rolled his eyes at Dean. “When? And who’s going to be there?”

“At around 8. And it’ll be just you guys and Cas. He didn’t want to go to the usual family celebrations because of Emma. I don’t want him to be all alone and he was too shy to go call you and ask.”

“And you’re not going to be there?” Dean asked when Eve came by to greet Gabriel and hand him pancakes and coffee.

“Nope. As much as I love Cas I do have parties to be at. It is New Year’s Eve after all.”

“Thank you,” Sam said before Dean could grumble something not all that nice.

“That’s at least one thing I can do. Castiel doesn’t always understand how much certain things might mean to other people. I bet he was just gonna let you two fly off. But he’s in baby land anyway. Pretty useless if you ask me.”

“He’ll manage,” Dean said, feeling defensive on Castiel’s behalf. Gabriel looked up at him, the blueberry sauce on his pancake dripping down onto the table.

“Of course he will. He’s Castiel. But he won’t be happy in the long run. Trust me on this,” he said, then he ate his lunch, content to ignore both Winchesters. Dean didn’t know how much truth Gabriel’s words held, but somehow he doubted that Castiel would agree with him.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Dean told him, but secretly, viciously hoped that somehow he wouldn’t. Maybe then there would be a place for Dean at Castiel’s side to shoulder half of the responsibility and his worries. But Dean knew that this was a selfish thought, so he locked it away and hoped it would never come up again.

\--

Maybe Dean should have expected it, but he still shuffled nervously when Sam started being all emotional once Castiel carefully placed Emma into his arms, skipping long introductions.

“She’s tiny,” Sam said and Emma looked up at him with a bit of a disgruntled frown, before she relaxed in Sam’s hold.

“Everything is tiny compared to you,” Dean joked, but he couldn’t help feeling warmed by seeing his brother cradling Emma carefully.

“I wonder if she’s going to be blonde,” Sam continued, ignoring Dean. “She’s got really blue eyes,” he marveled, brushing his finger over Emma’s rounded cheek.

“Her cousin is blonde too and both me and Jimmy used to be fair haired as children,” Castiel explained, taking this moment of not having is arms occupied to call the pizza delivery service.

“That’ll go into her milk,” Dean commented dryly when Castiel had ordered and got a frown in return. He laughed, reaching out to pat Castiel’s shoulder when he looked thoughtful. “Don’t listen to me. It’s New Year’s Eve, you can indulge all you want,” Dean assured him, then he leant against the kitchen island next to Castiel, watching Sam coo to their baby. It made him both proud and melancholic. “I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“Oh,” Castiel said silently, but Dean saw him nod out of the corner of his eyes. “I understand.”

“What are we going to do, Cas?” Dean turned his head slightly to watch Castiel push his fists into the pockets of his sweater. “Are we going to do anything?”

“I want to keep you updated,” Castiel said after a while and looked up, “if that’s okay with you.”

“Yes, of course… She is my kid too, Cas,” Dean explained and Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t ask for much, Cas. If I can see her once or twice a year and send her a card for her birthday that’s enough. Just… Not _nothing_ , please.” He knew he sounded pitifully desperate but at the moment he couldn’t care less. The thought of never seeing Emma again, of only being updated, made his insides clench painfully. The sense of utter loss was so close to the surface that Dean had to swallow a couple of times to force it back down. Castiel seemed shocked by that and took a moment until he reached out, grabbing Dean’s wrist.

“I wouldn’t do that to you,” he assured him, “just because I want to raise her alone doesn’t mean I want to erase you from her life.” Dean searched Castiel’s face, but he seemed generally surprised by Dean’s fear. “I don’t want to make some visiting hours plan, Dean, but we’ll figure it out.” Dean nodded, still unsure, but then Sam came up to them with a slightly lost expression and Emma whimpering slightly.

“Give her here,” Dean said, reaching out to take her and for a moment she started crying, but then she stopped, gurgling against Dean’s shoulder, spit wetting his shirt. “Maybe she’s hungry,” Dean guessed.

“I’ll feed her and then put her to bed. She’s been up for quite a while already,” Castiel said and Dean reluctantly handed her over. “The money for the pizza is on the table.” With that Castiel went upstairs, the floorboards creaking all the way.

“She’s amazing,” Sam said, sounding breathless, a huge smile plastered on his face. Dean couldn’t help the small, proud smile that formed on his lips.

“Yes… I know,” he said fondly.

\--

Castiel drove Dean and Sam to the airport the next day and Dean assumed that he did pity Dean to some extent, because he let him hold Emma all the way until he had to go to the check-in.

“You’ll tell me everything?” Dean asked when it was time to leave. Sam had already shaken hands and pressed a fond kiss on Emma’s forehead before letting them say their goodbyes. “How she grows and what she does?”

“I will,” Castiel promised, reaching out to pull Dean into a hug, mindful of Emma who was still in Dean’s arms.

“And make her listen to some good music, okay. Not only your crap, alright?”

“It’s not-,” Castiel sighed and smiled up at Dean. “I will expose her to your preferred music too,” he promised. Dean nodded and, with a heavy heart, kissed Emma. She was looking up at him, with wide eyes and once Dean handed her over to Castiel she started squirming and whining. “Sssh, Emma.”

“It’s okay, baby. Don’t forget me, right?” Dean said, brushing his hand over the silky hair on Emma’s head.  “Bye, Cas,” Dean said, “I love you.” Castiel’s composed face crumbled at that and he bit his lips, but he nodded. He took something out of his pocket and handed it to Dean wordlessly just before Dean turned away. They were all pictures of Emma, some of them showing her and Dean. There was also a copy of the Polaroid picture Ezra had taken. He really looked goofy, an awed stare on his face. On the back Dean could see Castiel’s neat handwriting. _Emma and her Dad, 27 th of December 2008._

Dean felt like he could hear the ringing of Emma’s loud crying reverberating inside of himself all the way back to Kansas.


	8. Chapter 8

PART THREE

\--

Dean had a ritual. Each morning he would wake up to the sound of his alarm clock playing his favorite rock station. He’d stumble into the shower, gets dressed and sit at the table, bleary eyed until there was a cup of coffee in front of him. He’d get himself downstairs, muttering a greeting to Benny when he wasn’t out, received a cup of strong coffee from Lucy and locked himself in his office. He’d open his laptop, where he was greeted by the sight of Emma making big eyes at him as soon as the computer started up. He ignored everything for five minutes, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and wrote a short note to Emma. He never wrote anything special, just whatever came to his mind, put a  “Love, your Daddy” under it and sealed it. He guessed that once she was old enough she would certainly be slightly embarrassed by the boxes full of love notes, but Dean believed that it was something he was probably doing for himself. Once he put the small note into a box, his day started.

There weren’t any pressing matters at the moment and none of his hunter contacts had anything alarming to report, so Dean decided to help in the shop. They were planning on opening it on Dean’s birthday, which was in 3 days. He had been worried about more stress coming their way, but all the furniture was standing, the invitations had been printed and sent out and Benny assured him that they had everything they needed. They hadn’t been very original in their naming, Dean rejecting almost everything just like his suggestions were generally met with frowns. So they had just shrugged and called it “The Apothecary” because that was what people were used to.

He just returned from the music shop next door for some records to play at the opening party when his phone rang. There were no clients at the moment requiring his attention, so he slipped into his office and accepted the call.

“Hey Cas,” he greeted, masking his surprise. Castiel had sent him short text messages, maybe a mail if he felt generous. He had never called.

 _“Hello, Dean. I hope this is a good time.”_ Hearing Castiel’s voice again made his heart beat just a bit too fast, so he sat down heavily into his chair. He tried not to babble something about how good it was to hear him again, when the worry started gnawing at him.

“It’s a good time, dude. So, what’s up? Is Emma alright?” Schooling his voice felt immensely difficult, but he thought he did well.

“Yes, she’s sleeping at the moment,” Castiel told him evenly. Dean sighed in relief, glad that this wasn’t a call to deliver bad news. “Sam sent me an invitation for your opening party,” Castiel continued. Dean perked up at that.

“He did? That little bitch,” he snorted, but couldn’t help the nervous excitement. But Castiel was quick to dash his hopes again.

“I’m sorry I can’t come,” he said silently and Dean leant back in his chair, not sure if he should be disappointed. Of course Castiel wouldn’t come. “But I want to visit. How about the weekend after your birthday?”

“What? Really?” Dean asked in surprise, “Emma too?” Castiel didn’t give an answer for a while and Dean meant to apologize for being too pushy, but Castiel cut him off:

“I think she’s a bit young to travel, but yes,” he promised thoughtfully and Dean almost shouted in delight. “I doubt your house is equipped for a small child.”

“Oh! I’ll get everything you need!” Dean told him hastily.

“That would be nice, but be sure to keep the receipts so I know what I owe you for your expenses,” Castiel told him and there was nothing in his voice that could give Dean a clue whether he was happy or apprehensive about them spending a bit of time together. ~~~~

“Oh, no, that’s okay, she’s my-“

“I insist,” Castiel said, his voice sounding far too stern for Dean’s liking, but he begrudgingly agreed, even though he decided to conveniently forget about the price either way. There was a shuffling noise, like blankets being shifted, on the other end of the line. Castiel made a small sound of discomfort, before Dean heard him speak again. He sounded a bit far off, maybe he had dropped his phone. “Emma is waking up, I have to hang up.” Dean took a sharp breath, hearing a little wail, before Castiel quietly whispered to her.

“Wait, Cas! Can I,” he started, unsure how to continue, “can you put her on the phone?”

“Why would I do that? She’s an infant, she can’t talk,” Castiel argued and Dean couldn’t help rolling his eyes.

“Please.” He could hear Castiel snort, but then the small whimpering noise got a bit louder.

“Emma? Hey, Emma. This is your Daddy,” Dean said gently. There was silence for a moment, before the baby cooed once. “Hey, baby. I hope you’re well. I’m really looking forward to seeing you. Be good, yes?” As far as Dean could tell Emma didn’t acknowledge him anymore, but at least she wasn’t crying.

“I think she recognizes your voice,” Castiel mused after a while. Dean felt pride expand in his chest at that and he grinned happily. “So I will see you on Friday, one week after your birthday.”

“Yes, thanks Cas,” Dean said, anticipating the curt cutting off of their phone call, which followed a beat after Dean had finished speaking. He put his phone away and rubbed his face, but he couldn’t get rid of his grin. He hadn’t been this excited for a long time. He could finally hold his baby in his arms again.

\--

The opening of The Apothecary went by without a hitch. While there weren’t overwhelming amounts of people coming in to check out their new place, there at least had been enough publicity that Dean felt they were pretty crowded. Dean was quite proud of the fact that the human and the supernatural could mingle, enjoying coffee and sandwiches (and pie, if this has to be some sort of fancy coffee shop then Benny could at least go the extra mile to get them supplies of pie delivered from the local bakery).

The biggest surprise probably was that his father poked his head in close to midnight, with an assertion that he really didn’t want to stay for long.

“You’re 30, Dean,” had been all the explanation provided as to why he had showed up. Mary had given John a kiss on the cheek, before sending them away to get their talking done in a quiet corner. John Winchester made more than just Benny’s hackle rise when he came near and it wasn’t like John was all too polite.

“I’m glad you came, Dad,” Sam said, hugging his father, before he too went back into the shop, shooting Dean a mix of a grimace and an encouraging grin which just looked odd and Dean almost started laughing. Instead he led his father to his office and leant against the desk and put his hands into his pant pockets. Maybe he was 30, but his dad still made him feel like a small boy.

“I can’t say that I am all that happy about what you’re doing, Dean. We’re a family of hunters after all,” John said and Dean thought that this was it, the argument he had been bracing himself for all the time. He had received enough unfriendly feedback about what he chose to do with his abilities, but nothing had really mattered to him. But this was his father. Turning his back on him and hunting had probably been more difficult than telling his mother that he’d trade his college education for a gun with silver bullets in it.

“I know, sir,” Dean said, keeping his voice firm and his eyes on John. John studied him, then he looked around the office.

“You’ve got so much skill, Dean and you’d be the best hunter out there. You’ve got instincts that even I can’t match. But you use them for this.” Even though Dean had went through countless versions of this talk in his head, he still didn’t know what to say right now.

But his phone buzzed, the vibration against his hand startling him. He pulled the phone out, seeing that Castiel had sent him a picture message. He knew that John was looking at him, but he still opened it and when he saw the contents he couldn’t help a chuckle.

Emma was blinking up at the camera, her blonde tufts of hair messed up, blue eyes opened in a stare of wonder. On her chest there was a sign that read “Happy Birthday, Daddy” in Castiel’s handwriting.

“This was the best choice, Dad,” Dean said eventually, a small smile on his lips. “I don’t want to die at the hands of a monster. I want to protect people and the monsters those people have become.” He turned the phone around in his hands, but in the end he lifted it up to his father. “Hunting is dangerous and even though I want to help as many people as I can, I need to be safe.” John had one eyebrow raised, but then he looked down at the screen. It was a little bit funny to watch his face change from stern to surprised in a matter of seconds.

“Yours?” John asked, taking the phone from Dean to look at her a bit more closely.

“Yes. Her name’s Emma. She’s 3 weeks old,” Dean said proudly. John handed the phone back wordlessly, studying his son’s face, but in the end his stern demeanor cracked. He started laughing, and pulled at his son to hug him, clapping him on the back affectionately.

“I actually wanted to end this talk by saying that what you’re doing might be foolish but I can see its merits,” John said after he had let him go again, keeping his hands on Dean’s upper arms. “But I think now I’ll just give you a pass. I’m glad you made the same choice your Mom did and I couldn’t. Family is more important than the hunt.”

“I’m actually quite surprised to hear that,” Dean admitted, but he couldn’t deny how glad he was. He had to thank Castiel later to send him the picture of Emma with such perfect timing. John huffed, but then he sobered again.

“Just keep your ears and eyes open. You might not be a hunter, but you’re still part of our world. You or your kid and her mom could be targets.”

“I won’t make the same mistake twice,” Dean told him. His dad studied him again, but then he nodded. “But you should take care too. Maybe Emma wants to see her granddad one day.” John rolled his eyes, but he still grinned.

“Good. If anything dangerous comes up, call me,” he said eventually, then he excused himself and left the office. Dean breathed out a sigh of relief and looked up at the ceiling.

No, Dean didn’t want to drag Emma and Cas into this. He had made a difference choice than his dad had. He was glad to trade in all his weapons for the sake of keeping a low profile if it meant to protect his family. But for now, he still had work to do.

\--

Emma was the most beautiful, most tiny human being Dean had ever seen. She was already quite a bit more alert than the last time he held her; she was smiling up at him, eyes wide and excited. He just couldn’t get enough of her and he was glad that he had tried to assemble the baby crib to put into his room for Castiel because now Emma could sleep here in his own apartment.

“It’s really nice,” Castiel said, sitting in Dean’s living room with a cup of tea from downstairs. Emma was on Dean’s lap and Dean intended to keep her there until Castiel wanted her back.

“Thanks,” Dean remembered to answer, watching Castiel look around. “It took quite a while to furnish. It’s pretty big, so I’m glad that I’m not all alone in this.”

“Benny, who I met downstairs, is your roommate, isn’t he?” Castiel wondered, reaching out to put one hand on Dean’s thigh and the other rubbing Emma’s stomach, earning himself a pleased hum. Dean felt the warm shape of Castiel’s hand on his thigh and the small distance between them was like electricity. Dean wished he could just lean a bit to the side so that they would touch, but considering how their relationship was, it was out of the question. Maybe spending the weekend together was already slightly dangerous. “He told me that you asked him to take a motel room for the time I’m here? Why?” Dean froze at that but decided to busy himself by taking a hold of Emma’s tiny hands. “Dean.”

“It’s not because I want to get into your pants, okay?” Dean told him, his face heating up a bit because yeah… Yeah he’d really like to do that, but that was beside the point. “I just wanted us to spend time together.”

“Is that so?” Castiel wondered, not really convinced. He leant back against the couch’s backrest and Dean could still feel the intensity of his stare. Dean groaned, shaking his head.

“Benny’s a vampire,” Dean confessed and Castiel shifted at that, straightening. “Lucy – you’ve met her, right? Lucy too.”

“Don’t you trust them around me or Emma?” Castiel wondered and Dean let go of Emma’s fingers to lift her up and press her against his chest.

“I do trust them. But I don’t want to get you involved in anything supernatural. At least not more than you’ve been exposed to already,” Dean told him silently, gently rubbing Emma’s back. The little girl drooled slightly; Dean felt the warm spit trickling down his neck as she mouthed at the collar of his shirt. Castiel still had his hand on Dean’s thigh and now he gave it a light squeeze.

“That’s thoughtful of you. But don’t worry too much. I won’t come wrestle werewolves with you,” he said and Dean had to laugh.

“Right. I did this once and really wouldn’t recommend it,” he joked, rubbing his cheek against Emma’s fluffy head. He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in the sweet smell of milk and baby powder. The little jumper she wore was soft under his fingers and her back vibrated by the breaths she took and the smallest hums and sighs.

“I’m so glad that you came,” he whispered, kissing the side of Emma’s head. He didn’t see Castiel’s expression, but he could feel him inch closer and resting his head on Dean’s shoulder. “Really…” Dean opened his eyes and saw Castiel looking up at him from beneath his long, dark lashes. He stared at him until Castiel raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You’re so beautiful,” Dean mumbled and Castiel had to laugh.

“Thank you. You too,” he said, then he reached out to cover Dean’s hand with his own. “I’m glad that you’re her father. And not just because you’re pretty.” Dean shook his head at that, smiling fondly. He didn’t dare to shift his hand, because the smallest movement would get him to interlace his fingers with Castiel’s.

“You don’t mind the people around here knowing about you and Emma?” Dean wondered after a while of them enjoying the silence. Emma had fallen asleep again, probably still exhausted from the flight, even though Castiel had assured Dean that she had been really calm and slept through most of it. But getting her through the airport without her screaming herself hoarse had apparently been quite a bit of a hassle.

“No. I understand that it would be very selfish of me to ask you to be quiet about your own daughter,” Castiel told him, then he sat up straight before getting up on his feet. Dean looked up at him. Castiel was stretching, some of his joints popping. Dean couldn’t help watching him moving about slightly, trying to get rid of his soreness. Dean wasn’t sure if he should be happy or saddened by the fact that he still felt the same attraction he did the first time he had seen him in the diner. Back then it had been quite fortunate for the job (though Dean was loath to call it that) but now it was just another point on the long list of things that made it impossible to get over Castiel.

He knew that he was reasonably young and that it wouldn’t be difficult to meet and love other people. And maybe one of them would be perfect and he could be happy. But at the moment he really didn’t want anyone that wasn’t Castiel. And it certainly didn’t feel like that would change anytime soon.

He cradled Emma close, because she was warm and safe and right here in his arms where Dean felt she was supposed to be.

\--

A weekend with his daughter was really much too short. Even though he was tired by the end of it and marveled at how fresh Castiel looked even though he had been up almost all nights to put her back to sleep.

“I’m on sabbatical leave for the next semester,” Castiel explained, drinking his second cup of coffee down in The Apothecary. Dean was slightly uneasy about having something as sweet as little Emma here. Most other people in the shop today were human, or as human as you could be as a witch. Dean really didn’t like witches and they tended not to be part of the supernatural population that required Dean’s assistance. And the fairy in the back, nursing her tea, looked a bit too interested in Emma.

Or maybe Dean was just paranoid. In either case he had her on his lap protectively even though the baby was oblivious and happily cooing to herself. Only when Castiel called his name did he snap out of his thoughts, looking at Castiel with a confused expression.

“You didn’t hear one word I said,” he concluded, shaking his head with a sigh. “If you really think Emma shouldn’t be here then we can go up again.”

“No… No, sorry. I’m just nervous,” Dean apologized, turning a lock of Emma’s hair around in his fingers, careful not to tug. Castiel studied him, but then he got back to his coffee. “What were you saying?”

“That I’m on sabbatical leave and that I’ll take the time to get work done around my house,” he repeated and Dean looked at him. “My family’s old house. It’s in Topeka.” Dean widened his eyes and Emma grunted because Dean had slightly pulled her hair in surprise.

“Topeka?” he asked again, unsure if he had heard wrong, but hoping that he hadn’t. Castiel nodded, but he lifted his hand before Dean could speak again.

“I know it’s close, Dean. But my family and my work are in Colorado. I’m not going to move there,” he told him silently. “I’m sorry.” Dean didn’t know what to say for a moment, but then he scratched his neck awkwardly.

“Yes, of course,” he mumbled, biting his lips so as not to say anything unwise. “It just… For a moment I hoped that maybe you had changed your mind. That you would want to do this together after all.” He didn’t look up at Castiel, preferring the peaceful, adoring gaze of his daughter.

“I don’t…”

“Geez, don’t sugarcoat it, Cas,” Dean snorted and he couldn’t help feeling irritated. “You always do this.”

“What?” Castiel asked, frowning at him and Dean just shook his head. Castiel snorted, but then he took his empty cup and carried it over to the counter. Dean turned away, brushing his finger over Emma’s soft cheek.

“Mommy’s being so contrary, right, baby?” Emma didn’t reply, but she pushed her fist into Dean’s open palm and Dean chuckled lightly, wrapping his fingers around her hand. “I’m going to miss you, sweetheart.”

\--

After a very restless night and with Emma still screaming in his arms, Castiel really had no nerve to deal with Naomi’s criticism.

“If you want to argue with me, you should do it once I’m in a better mood,” Castiel suggested sharply, but Naomi just pushed past him to the kitchen, putting the éclairs she had brought along on plates.

“You should get a babysitter, Castiel,” she said, bringing the sweets back into the living room. “You don’t have a partner and you’re clearly out of your depth.”

“I’m not out of my depth, I’m just exhausted,” Castiel growled, rubbing Emma’s stomach, but it still didn’t ease her crying. “And I told you, I don’t need a partner.”

“You’re stubborn,” Naomi commented dryly but Castiel just glared at her. “Well, you know I was displeased by your pregnancy. You were really successful in what you were doing and you had appeared to be steadfast.”

“Why I wanted to have a child is nobody’s business. Neither is how I did it,” Castiel reminded her, bouncing Emma on his lap, but the effect was only minimal. “People are allowed to use their bodies how they see fit and it turns out that I did want to have a child after all. I don’t see how that is so hard to understand.”

“It’s not hard to understand, but it was… predictable. You have the body to birth children, so you did.”

“But that’s not the reason I did it. I didn’t give in to any pressure. It’s slightly unfortunate that the entire “prove your worth by being a mother” debate is gaining new momentum.” Naomi nodded, snorting in displeasure. “But it has nothing to do with me. I have proven my worth to myself before. I have proven it in the last ten years.” Naomi silently ate her dessert, ignoring the growing irritation within Castiel.

“I know you did,” she said eventually. “And I do agree that motherhood is a valid personal experience that shouldn’t be disregarded.” Castiel hadn’t quite expected this concession, at least not from Naomi, but he nodded. “But I think you should make others take part in your experience of it.” Castiel raised an eyebrow in confusion. “Emma’s father isn’t around and fine, that was your choice. But it’s like you don’t want anyone to take part in this. Motherhood isn’t something that happens in privacy, not exclusively at least. And people do want to know about you.”

“I’m not going to take part in a reality show if this is what you are suggesting,” Castiel said with a frown and a shudder. Naomi had to laugh at that, shaking her head. “Then what _are_ you suggesting?”

“Maybe a blog? I know you hang out on mothers and babies blogs all of the time, so why don’t you make your own?” Castiel snorted, but even though he felt some sort of reluctance towards it, there was some exhibitionistic part of him that didn’t entirely disapprove of sharing his experience.

“I have a scrap book, I am recording Emma’s progress there,” he said after a while, but it was a weak counter argument. Naomi smiled at him, feeling that she had already succeeded in convincing Castiel. And maybe she had. “I don’t even know what to talk about.”

“Is that important?” Naomi countered and Castiel sighed deeply. Emma had finally stopped crying, but her face was still slightly red and her eyes were puffy. She was just the most beautiful baby there had ever been. It sort of would be a shame not to show her. And maybe she could share the link with Dean. “I’ll help you set one up.”

“You just want to spy on what I do, don’t you?” Castiel asked, handing Emma over so that he could finally turn to his éclair. Naomi made a small grimace, not used to find herself with a lapful of baby.

“Well, let’s say I just want to be sure that you’re actually doing fine. And yes, but I’m your sister; I need to spy on you any way I can,” she said with a wink and Castiel rolled his eyes.

“Maybe at the end of it you want to have a child too?” Naomi snorted at that, rubbing her thumbs over Emma’s chest.

“I guess I’m fine being an aunt. It’s difficult enough to keep an eye on all of you and as long as Michael doesn’t change his mind about children I won’t feel the peer pressure all too keenly,” she told him, then she tilted her head slightly and studied Emma’s face until the girl smiled up at her. “She’s very cute.”

“I know,” Castiel said, proudly eating his dessert, his mind already on the camera he would have to buy.

\--

Dean usually wasn’t one to sit in front of the computer and scroll through blogs (well, he did watch porn from time to time, but nobody could fault him for that). But ever since Cas had sent him the address to his own blog, his attention kept straying away from the cases he was working on or things Benny wanted him to do, to the cute little webpage. It was almost a bit too cute for Castiel, who Dean had assumed to be a guy focused on things being practical, but considering how fond he was of buying all cute baby things he could, Dean should have expected the white and faded pastel colors and silhouettes of birds and little flowers that surrounded the text and video posts.

The first entry had been very functional, introducing both Castiel and Emma. Dean wasn’t surprised that there was no mention of him, apart from a small note that said: “Emma’s daddy lives and works in Kansas”. At least the term daddy was something he could keep for himself. Castiel was pretty diligent with keeping his blog updated, but while sometimes he posted pictures of Emma (Emma bathing, Emma getting her rosy little butt powdered or Emma’s face covered in milk – all pics Dean was sure Emma wouldn’t like once she got old enough to be embarrassed) he also wrote articles or linked them and sometimes uploaded videos.

“You should get off the internet, we do have a case, you know?” Sam argued from the door frame. Dean fought the urge to close his laptop in embarrassment and looked up at Sam.

“I’m working,” he said and Sam rolled his eyes, but then he handed him some print outs before he went back to his own office. He scanned the files, but before he turned away from the computer to make some phone calls, he saved the latest picture Castiel had posted.

“Claire knitted a little hat in the shape of an apple for Emma. It suits her well,” was all that Castiel had written beneath the image. Dean decided that this had to be his new desktop picture. He gave a pleased nod and then he turned to his case. He was sure that some of his contacts must know how he could get his hands on a relatively fresh brain.

\--

“Some weeks ago I uploaded a rather uncoordinated video because I was excited to first hear Emma mumble mama.” Castiel was illuminated by the screen, the office behind him cast into shadow. It felt intimate watching him, even though Dean knew that anyone visiting Castiel’s online diary could watch it with him. Castiel rubbed his face and he seemed tired. “She’s growing so fast. I had to buy new clothes yesterday and she keeps on growing. She’s seven months old and she’s always babbling.” Castiel looked up at the screen now, whereas before he had been fiddling with something in his hand. Dean recognized it as a recorder. “I know she doesn’t really understand what anything she says means yet, but for me it’s important to just listen to it.” Castiel clicked the recorder and the sound of babbling started playing. Dean couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face and he closed his eyes to listen to the string of sounds that didn’t really make sense. “What I find interesting was this,” Castiel continued, talking over the recording. There was now music and Dean recognized it as one of the songs he had recorded for Castiel. The record of Emma was silent for a beat, but then she uttered one single, clear sound before she started giggling: “Dada.”

Dean stared at the screen, where Castiel was now looking at the camera. “That’s his music. And I think she misses him.” Castiel smiled slightly, but then he reached out and the video ended. Dean took a shaky breath and scrolled down. There was a long text about the development of children’s speech, but at the very end, there was a small note:

“I’ll be in Kansas in two weeks.” Dean grabbed his mobile phone, his palms a bit sweaty and his fingers shaking, but he did manage to write Castiel a message.

“I’ll be waiting.”

\--

Dean’s case had taken him out of state and while he was nursing some minor injuries (he was getting out of shape) he watched the videos he had missed. Castiel would be in Kansas, probably his house in Topeka, later in the evening and Dean had been looking forward to taking him and Emma out for dinner, only that now he limped unattractively.

“I’m not actually above bragging,” Castiel in the video said, his voice sounding cheerful, almost a bit too much.

“I wouldn’t actually call this bragging?” another voice spoke up and the camera fell on a man, with a mop of unruly curls and a beard. He gave a start when he noticed the camera, but then his shoulders slumped. Emma was sitting on his lap, apparently being quite happy about it. Dean stopped in the middle of wrapping his busted ankle, staring at the man he had never seen before. “I feel like you’re rubbing this into my face.”

“Maybe. But it’s a fact that parents do feel achievement. Sometimes my baby is my trophy. This is Chuck.” Chuck seemed uneasy, but he lifted his hand and waved at the camera. Dean let out a breath of relief. He did remember Castiel talking about Chuck once, some kind of author friend. With a girlfriend. So he assumed his spark of ugly jealousy had been unnecessary.  He continued wrapping his ankle. “Today I’m making Chuck uncomfortable.”

“You really do, Cas. Good job so far,” Chuck commented. Castiel chuckled silently, his voice louder since he held the camera before he placed it somewhere. He sat down on the couch next to Chuck. “I just do this because I owe you one.”

“You do. You’ll eternally owe me,” Castiel said and it sounded a bit childish, which was hilarious because Castiel did pout. He composed himself and looked at the camera. “Over ten years ago I wanted to have what I have now. I wanted to be married – I _was_ married – and I wanted to have a child. What I had never thought about back then was who I actually wanted to be apart from a mother of one or two or more children.”

“You tended to say five.” Chuck muttered and Castiel shot him a look. “Okay, I’m silent.”

“Even though my life currently circles all around Emma, I do know that there is more to me than that. There wouldn’t have been 15 years ago. Maybe I knew that. You certainly knew that.” Dean watched Castiel turn his head to look at Chuck. The man shrugged, still looking a bit uncomfortable with Emma on his lap.

“I just knew that having children wouldn’t fix anything about us, at least not right then and there,” Chuck muttered and that had Dean gasp in surprise. “I’m glad you have your child now.”

“Me too,” Castiel said and took hold of Emma’s hands, beating them against Chucks’s stomach. “But you will have to live with me bragging anyway.”

“Yes, sure. I guess I deserve that.”

“She’s also very pretty. Her father is handsome. You’re attractive too, but he’s very pretty.” Chuck rolled his eyes and reached out to switch of the camera, Castiel’s protest the last Dean could hear. Dean stared at the blog and the black screen of the video until his screensaver kicked in, circling pictures of Dr. Sexy, M.D.

Of course he had known that Castiel used to be married and he knew that there was absolutely no point in getting frustrated about that. But here Cas was, with their daughter sitting on his ex-husband’s lap. It was painful watching this, knowing that so many people around Castiel could be close to him. He was many miles away, watching Castiel and Emma through a computer screen. He closed his laptop and left the office. Sam called after him in confusion, but Dean just wanted to take a shower to wash away whatever mess of emotions he was feeling.

\--

It was early morning when Castiel pushed the door to The Apothecary open, the bell overhead announcing his arrival to the few customers and Benny who was writing something on a black board. Benny grinned at him, waving.

“Hey Cas,” he greeted, then he reached over the counter to hold his finger out for Emma. Emma grabbed it, letting her small fist be shaken. “Hello Emma.”

“Good morning,” Castiel replied, “is Dean here?”

“Yeah,” Benny said, letting go of Emma’s hand again, and nodded towards the back. “He doesn’t have a case so he’s been moping about in his room. Ever since yesterday actually. I don’t know what’s gotten into him, he’s been so excited about you coming to visit him.” Castiel frowned in confusion. He thanked Benny and went to the stairs leading to the apartment over the shop. The enticing scent of coffee got shut out and Castiel rang the bell. For a long time nothing happened at all and Castiel rang again, before he leant a bit closer to press his ear against the wood. It was silent.

“Dean?” he called. “Are you okay?” Castiel heard shuffling on the other side of the door and the sound of hurried footsteps before the door was opened to reveal Dean smiling. It looked slightly off, but maybe it was merely because Dean looked like he had just gotten out of bed. “Sorry. I was taking a nap.”

“I can go down again until you’re properly awake,” Castiel suggested, but Emma had other ideas. She had started reaching out to Dean the moment the door had opened and now she was babbling. Dean’s eyes went down to her immediately. Castiel shifted her slightly and Dean noticed it as the invitation it was, taking his daughter out of Castiel’s hands.

“Just come in. It was a long night, but nothing to be worried about,” Dean said, leaving Castiel at the door. Castiel got in and shut it behind him. He put his bag on the ground next to a couple of shoes, then he followed Dean into the master bedroom. The bed looked messy and slept it. Dean let himself drop back into the coves with Emma lying on his chest. Castiel huffed, putting his hand in his hips.

“The goods have been delivered. You can get some coffee now, Mr. Novak,” Dean muttered, his voice muffled because he was kissing Emma’s forehead.

“Are you joking or are you being angry with me?” Castiel asked, not moving from his spot by the door. Dean cracked an eye open, gazing at Castiel over the top of Emma’s head. “Benny said you were in an odd mood. What happened?”

“Nothing in particular.” Castiel turned around, leaving Dean’s bedroom. “Hey, no!”

“I’m making you breakfast, just stay there a while longer.” Dean uttered some sort of grunting noise that Castiel took as acceptance. He didn’t know his way around Dean’s kitchen all too well, but he smiled when he found pictures of Emma and him attached to the fridge. He pulled it open and got to work. He still wasn’t that good as a cook, but it was enough to prepare a basic warm breakfast. He put everything on a tray, together with a cup of coffee and then carried it back to Dean’s room. Emma had her face pressed against Dean’s cheek, but she wasn’t sleeping, happy to press her hands against Dean’s face.  Dean looked at Castiel, but it took a considerable effort to rearrange Emma so that he could sit up.

“Breakfast in bed? Awesome,” Dean said while Castiel went to open the window. It was already getting hot even though it was only the beginning of July. He held out his head, feeling a light breeze. “Emma, no, this is hot.” Castiel looked over his shoulder, finding Dean sipping his coffee and Emma touching the scrambled eggs, getting grease over her fingers and Dean’s legs. Dean sighed happily after he had drained the cup.

“Did you have troubles with your job?” Castiel asked after a while when it seemed that Dean was awake enough to talk. Dean shrugged, but then he lifted one leg slightly, showing Castiel the wrappings around his ankle. “What happened?”

“I got in the way of a ghost when I was helping clear the house so it could be inhabited.”

“You’re doing real estate now too?” Castiel joked and Dean rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

“There are so many old, abandoned houses around everywhere. You’ve just got to clear them of whatever unpleasant thing inhabits them. Non-humans like the comfort of a roof and running water too, but if they’re flying under the radar it’s difficult to buy a house, you know? It’s not all that hard, lots of administrative stuff to buy the house and some spring cleaning, but it pays well,” Dean explained, wiping his fingers over Emma’s face, getting some spit and grease off her. She giggled and nibbled at his fingers.

“So you’d say you’re doing well?” Castiel asked, then he reached out to put his hands on Dean’s ankle. He flinched slightly, but he stilled again when Castiel started massaging him softly.

“Well, if you continue that, I’ll certainly be fine,” Dean said and Castiel looked up at him, not surprised to find Dean grinning at him. He rolled his eyes, pressing his thumbs into Dean’s soles. “But yes. It never paid all that well and I expected some issues since we opened shop just half a year ago, but it’s looking good.”

“You can support yourself?” Castiel asked, letting go of Dean’s foot. Dean nodded.

“It’s never been about making money, but I’m glad I do. My network’s expanding all of the time and I’m actually able to save money now,” Dean explained, but then he made a surprised noise when Emma pushed against his legs and sat up. “Woah!”

“Don’t worry, she’s starting crawling around,” Castiel assured him and put his hand on the blanket next to Dean’s leg, tapping his fingers. Emma looked around, then she reached out to grab him, letting herself drop off Dean’s legs, landing face first in the covers. She reached out for Castiel’s fingers but because they were too far way, she pushed herself forwards a bit, sat up and reached out again. “She wants to go everywhere I am and she doesn’t just lie on her blanket anymore. It can be exhausting, especially since she constantly wants to be near me and if she wakes up at night she howls. I never knew babies were that loud.” Dean laughed at that, brushing his palm over Emma’s back gently, while she chewed on Castiel’s fingers.

Castiel liked how uncharged the atmosphere was at the moment, just him and Dean and Emma talking her mysterious baby language.

“So how are you holding up, as a single mom?” Dean asked, his tone light but also slightly melancholy.

“Fine. Most of the time. As I said, it’s exhausting. Seeing Emma grow up so well and knowing that I must be doing this right even though I am alone feels very rewarding,” Castiel said, then he put his hands under Emma’s armpits, pulling her into his laps. She just grunted once in protest, but then she continued to play with the spoon she had grabbed off the tray, slapping it against everything she could reach. “Sometimes I wish I had help, but I know I don’t need it.”

“Don’t you have a babysitter?” Dean asked and Castiel shook his head. “I’m pretty sure that even as a parent you’re allowed to catch your breath and go out once.”

“That’s not necessary,” Castiel insisted, talking over Dean snorting in disagreement. “I’ll have to go back to work eventually and then I’ll be away from her long enough.”

“I get it, but just an evening? Eating lunch with Gabriel? Or… I don’t know… A date?” Dean frowned even as he suggested it. Castiel smiled, but then he shook his head. “I know the mommy card lets you get away with a lot, but you shouldn’t stop meeting people.”

“I appreciate your concern, but I am prepared to irritate some of my friends with Emma’s constant presence or asking them to come visit me instead of going out.”

“You’re still a stubborn son of a bitch, aren’t you?” Castiel bristled slightly at the insult, but he shook his head. “Well, I’m not complaining that you’re not dating anyone.” Dean’s off-hand comment made Castiel look up from the top of Emma’s head, frowning at Dean in confusion. He seemed relaxed enough, but there was tension in how he squared his shoulders and lifted his head in a slightly confrontational way.

“Are you being territorial?” Castiel asked after a while of trying to figure out what Dean’s problem was.

“No, no, you can do whatever you want. Meet up with old flames or new ones. It’s none of my business,” Dean said, flicking his hand dismissively. Castiel lifted his eyebrow, but then he understood why Dean might be cross.

“Is this about Chuck?” Dean shrugged, but the way he averted his eyes was enough of an answer for Castiel. “He’s no reason to be jealous. I have no intentions of getting back with him.”

“It’s just…,” Dean started, but then he groaned, shaking his head. He looked at Castiel. “It’s not even about your ex. It’s because I have to go half a year without holding Emma. And I would have done better, Cas. You, Emma and that guy, that was what you wanted years ago, but now you could have it, just with me instead of him. But you don’t want it and that just… I don’t know. It stings.”

“Maybe if you had me it wouldn’t be so great anymore,” Castiel told him, but Dean just laughed at that, covering Castiel’s hand with his own.

“Trust me, it would be,” he assured Castiel, looking at him. Castiel stared right back, unsure what to say right now, the air between them charged. He felt one wrong move could change a lot, so he just froze and waited for Dean to do something. Dean closed his eyes after a while, shaking his head. He turned his head and kissed Castiel’s palm. “I’ll just continue to be territorial over you.” Castiel laughed at that, somehow both relieved and tense all over.

“Okay. I can live with that,” he assured him and when Dean finally let him go, he got off the bed. “Maybe you should get dressed. I need to buy a new toy for Emma.” Dean groaned, but he nodded. Castiel left Emma in Dean’s bedroom and went into the kitchen. He pushed the high window open and took deep breaths of the warm air. For some reason he felt like he was running away.

\--

The fact that Dean finally started making good money resulted in Castiel receiving packages from him every month. The fluffy toy tiger he had gotten her was Emma’s constant companion now, ready to supply an ear when she grew her teeth and always pulled along as she started crawling with more confidence. Emma was making progress in leaps and bounds and Castiel filled his blog with excited reports on how she had managed to stand for a while or how she made her first steps.

“She’s difficult right now… She’s clingy and afraid of everyone who isn’t me. I wonder if I might have done something wrong in not exposing her to more people. Jimmy told me I don’t have to worry and that it’s normal. I don’t really like the idea of having to teach her to say good-bye to me, but apparently it’s important that she realized that I will come back to her,” Castiel said. Dean saw him drag his hands through his hair (too long again, it was already curling around his ears and his neck, sticking up everywhere) and pondered his next words.

“I decided to go out this evening. It’s the first time since her birth and I’m not entirely sure how long I’ll bear it. I know she’ll be home, terrified and grumpy, even with Naomi looking after her…” Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “Okay.”

Dean really wished that he could offer to watch Emma for him, but he was so far away.

“Dean? We have quite a few customers, could you help out?” Dean looked up from the screen, finding Lucy standing in his door way. She smiled broadly when she saw the little outfit he was turning around in his hands. He had been in the process of wrapping it when he got distracted by the new video.

“Yeah, yeah. But you do know I’m not a waiter, right?” Dean grumbled before Lucy could say more about the dress. It was a damn cute little dress, pink with white dots and a delicate lace collar.

“Sure thing, Daddy Dean.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You really should come shopping with me! I’d love to help you pick out stuff for your baby!” she said, pushing him through the door to the kitchen area. Benny was already waiting there, handing him a tray of what looked like blood orange juice but he knew better.

“Monster night?” he asked, but then he was already pushed away again. He forgot about his worry about what Castiel might be doing for the rest of the evening. Only when Benny closed the shop and Dean had the numbers of two people (a regular seeming guy and very flirty witch) in his pocket did his head stray back to Castiel. Picking up women had always been something Dean could do with no problems at all and apparently he hadn’t really lost whatever it was that made him attractive to people. He put both numbers on his desk in his room, turning his mobile phone around. He could do it. Hook up with someone. He wasn’t attached after all, was he? He might be in love with someone, but that someone didn’t want him. It’s been months of just him, his hand and the memory of how Castiel felt. But in the end he punched in another number.

“Hey, how is your date night?” Surprisingly enough Castiel was unusually quick to answer.

 _“I think the guy flirting with me might be a monster. At least he causes me a headache.”_ Dean couldn’t help laughing.

_“I bet you’re laughing at me now. I doubt I’ll ever date again. It’s too much of a hassle just to have sex.”_

Dean looked at the text in surprise and it took him a minute to type a reply: “You want to have sex?”

 _“It’s a possibility. Sorry, he’s back.”_ And that way Dean was left to seethe again and the temptation to call the witch (heck, even the guy!) was great, but he knew that he was just being silly and vengeful and hurt. In the end he just went to bed.


	9. Chapter 9

September came and went, the heat still surprisingly stifling and irritating. Naomi had given him another semester off so he could focus entirely on his child and Castiel was glad for it. Since his sort of failed attempt at going out (failed in terms of getting laid) he hadn’t really tried again, keeping his times of separation from Emma to lunch breaks and going to the cinema in the evenings. Emma was still not all that happy about the hours she had to spent with someone who wasn’t her mommy, but just like Castiel, she too got used to it.

“You should jump back into the fray, Cas,” Gabriel suggested over a milkshake. Castiel had missed going to the diner, he had missed seeing the familiar faces and the scent of the coffee and the good lunch. Even the sort of sticky seats and the dirty menus. Nothing had changed at all and Eve still served him with a big grin. “I know I’m gonna regret talking to you about this, but you’re getting antsy. You should get laid.”

“I spent over 10 years not having sex and being just fine with that why should a year bother me now?” Castiel asked nonchalantly, hoping that he didn’t sound too defensive. Judging from Gabriel’s unconvinced stare he hadn’t been all that successful.

“Because you and Dean used to fuck like rabbits and I’m pretty sure you got a taste of what sex can be like if you’re not with an awkward douche.” Castiel rolled his eyes at that, stirring his milkshake with the straw. “Honestly, Cas. You’re a hot guy in his mid-30ies. You could have lots of people. I’m sure you could even have Dean if you wanted.”

“Maybe you missed it, but I don’t want to have a relationship,” Castiel told him grouchily, really not all that interested in talking this through now. He had only wanted to enjoy his milkshake, but of course Gabriel would steer this conversation into uncomfortable territories.

“Oh, I haven’t missed it. I haven’t missed how you ditched Dean, who was clearly head over heels in love with you, once you realized just what it means to have a child with someone.” Castiel looked down at the table top, enduring the constantly more judging tone Gabriel spoke with. “You were totally on commitment course. Boyfriend, baby, married to the end of your days commitment. And you pulled the safety brake because you’re chicken shit.” Castiel didn’t say anything, but he did breathe in loudly through his nose, exhaling slowly. He heard Gabriel lean forwards, putting both hands on the table, not close enough to reach out to Castiel though. “I know you were hurt in ways that I don’t understand. And I know that you’re doing this all to prove us, and most importantly yourself, that you don’t need anybody to achieve your personal happiness. But Cas… Look at me.” Reluctantly Castiel lifted his eyes, looking over the top of his tall glass, finding Gabriel’s expression to be stern, but also understanding. It was a very rare look to find on his face. “What you did to Dean is not unlike what Chuck did to you.” Castiel lowered his eyebrows at that. “What developed between you two was a relationship and even though you knew that you ultimately did not want Dean to be there with you once the baby’s born, you still kept him around as a boyfriend. Chuck and you were young, but you’re a grown ass man. You should have done better!”

“This really is none of your business,” Castiel told him, but Gabriel wasn’t particularly impressed by Castiel’s displeased frown.

“It’s not, but playing conscience sort of is my business,” Gabriel said.  “I remember how much you’ve cried, Cas. I remember how hard you tried to change to be someone that hurt less. And yes, maybe Dean doesn’t have the added pressure of his charged gender identity resting on his shoulders the way you do, but I’m pretty sure he did curl up to cry his eyes out too. People tend to do that when they get disappointed in the way you and Dean did.” Castiel shook his head, unable to say anything. Of course he had thought about this before, of course he knew how much he must have hurt Dean. It had hurt him too when he had to tell Dean to go, more than he thought it should have for someone he had just spent a few short months with.

“I didn’t end my relationship with Dean because I was being spiteful,” Castiel said eventually and Gabriel shook his head.

“No and I didn’t say that was the reason why you did,” he told him, trying to catch some of the milkshake’s foam with his straw. “I understand that you needed this to be your experience and yours alone. But you should be more aware of what you do.” Castiel lifted an eyebrow unsure what his cousin was getting at.

“Don’t make him wait for you and don’t use Dean as an excuse not to go on dates. If he’s Emma’s dad but not your partner, be clear on what this means,” he said, then he patted Castiel’s hand. “And maybe figure out why you’re spending more time in your Topeka home than strictly necessary.” Castiel frowned, his cheeks heating up.

“Fine. Do you want to go on a date?” Castiel grumbled, then he drained the rest of his milkshake and motioned for Eve. He needed a bit more sugar for this.

“What, me?” Gabriel asked in surprise, laughing lightly, “going on a date with your cousin doesn’t count, Cas. But I’m sure I could introduce you to some nice people. I think Marv has an eye on you.” Castiel rolled his eyes, uttering a long-suffering sigh. “You’re just going to get laid, okay? Just you and a guy fucking and then saying goodbye. Maybe fucking again if you liked it. I mean using your toys is all right and well, but you’re so touch starved, you even let me hug you all the time.”

“I’m not touch starved,” Castiel said with a snort, “I have Emma.” He turned away from Gabriel to talk to Eve. “I’d like to have a cupcake, please.”

“Your daughter doesn’t touch you the same way a guy would, come on, Cas. Don’t be so difficult,” Gabriel said and Eve lifted and eyebrow, tapping her pad with her pen. Castiel raised his hand to his forehead, embarrassed.

“You’re trying to set him up with someone?” Eve wondered.

“It’s just to clear up his head a bit on where he stands on the whole _Dean is not my boyfriend_ matter,” Gabriel teased, reaching over the table to flick Castiel’s hair out of his face.

“Leave me alone,” Castiel muttered, crossing his arms over his chest like a petulant child. Eve and Gabriel chuckled and let him sulk. Castiel thought this was all a bad idea. He didn’t need to get laid. He didn’t need to get touched. He didn’t particularly want anybody to touch him intimately, even if it was just for sex.

But he was willing to at least try, because not only Dean had to move on; he had to put an end to their chapter as well.

\--

The blog entry announcing that Castiel would try to date someone came out of the blue and put Dean in a funk that lasted from early October well into November. Sam had tried to talk him out of it without much success, especially once he brought up the topic of Dean’s bad mood (Dean should never have told Sam about the blog in the first place.) He had went into a bar, promptly met the sort of nice guy again but he’d been so awkward, that the man – who had introduced himself as Aaron – had taken pity on him. Just a beer and some conversation. Dean was kind of surprised (and glad, secretly maybe also a bit disappointed) that the reason Aaron had tried to talk to him wasn’t necessarily because he was looking for a hook-up, but because he too had some supernatural issues. Mostly a clingy golem going through a rebellious phase. Dean did promise to help him through it, but he had to give in and call Castiel, because golems weren’t really his field. Castiel had quite a bit to say on the topic of golems; apparently his grandfather had emigrated from Poland during the First World War and had shared the same amount of interest for superstitions as his grandson. Dean was glad that they had some sort of safe topic to talk about and Dean diligently took notes that might help Aaron with his problem.

“I’m pretty sure that’ll help him, thanks, Cas,” Dean said and expected the now familiar abrupt end of the call, but there was still silence and the sound of Emma singing to herself in the background. “Cas?”

_“You met this man in a bar?”_ Castiel asked him, _”you’re not drinking on the job, are you? That would be very unwise.”_ Dean had to laugh at that and he heard Castiel snort.

“No, no. I was just out drinking,” Dean answered and felt that now they took a very dangerous step towards the dating question. Not that he thought that for Castiel it was an issue. He had started dating again and even though there had not been a post about how successful he’d been in the last couple of weeks, Dean didn’t doubt that there had been men for Castiel. He was beautiful and wonderful and everybody not trying to get close to him was an idiot. “And that’s where I met Aaron. I kinda thought he was flirting with me, but it turns out that he was just figuring out if I could be roped into helping him. I usually don’t have human clients after all and I feel he was testing the waters.”

_“He was flirting with you?”_ Castiel asked and Dean could swear he heard the frown that he imagined Castiel to have been wearing. He wasn’t sure if that filled him with some sort of satisfaction.

“Sort of. But I was terrible. I thought I’d go hook up or something because it’s been months and… well. Before you and Lisa I used to get laid every other evening,” he explained. “I know that I’m bi since I’m totally into you, but other than with you I behaved like a nervous teenager with other guys. It was awful and pathetic.” Castiel chuckled slightly and Dean was glad that Castiel wasn’t annoyed with him, though Dean wasn’t exactly sure why. Castiel was the one to start the dating and it was as clear a sign that he was now moving on as it could get. Dean hadn’t been happy, still wasn’t happy at all, but it’s not like he could change it. He had thought about trying to win Castiel back, but when he had told his plans to his mom she has just shaken her head and told him that this only worked in romance movies. “Too forceful” had been the words his mother had used, but Dean was pretty sure she had meant “creepy”.

_“Yes… I understand. My attempts haven’t really gone all that well either,”_ he confessed and Dean let himself fall back on his couch, feeling that he needed to sit if they really were having this conversation. _“I went out every weekend and some conversations have been nice and stimulating.”_ Dean frowned at that word. _“But I felt no real attraction… Neither was I all that interested.”_

“But you wanted to have sex, right? At least you were pretty blunt about that some blog entries ago.”

_“I was slightly tipsy,”_ Castiel mumbled defensively.

“So what? Doesn’t matter,” Dean assured him, “ what did you do?”

_“I used toys,”_ Castiel told him with a snort that had Dean almost choke on nothing. _“Why are you so surprised? It’s enjoyable and at least preferable to my own fingers.”_

“Geez, Cas,” Dean hissed, but didn’t actually continue. The thought of Castiel pleasuring himself was driving him half mad, an instant and very intense desire spreading in his stomach and making him swallow. He was getting hard just thinking about it. “What do you use?” The silence following his question made Dean want to punch himself, preferably in the groin.

_“It depends on my mood. I ordered a vibrator a couple of days ago and it just arrived. I guess I’ll try that one tonight. It comes pretty close to your penis in size, but it’s not nearly thick enough.”_

“Uhm…,” Dean muttered, but wasn’t quite sure how to proceed.

_“I apologize, that might have been an awkward thing to say,”_ Castiel told him and Dean couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, that’s okay. I still kind of imagine you when I’m masturbating too,” Dean admitted and he heard Castiel huff in amusement.

_“Thank you,”_ he replied and Dean shook his head.

“So what now? You’re still trying to get laid?”

_“Eventually,”_ Castiel told him, _“but if it goes on like this I might just choose celibacy for the next decade. It’s far too much trouble. Gabriel says I’m too picky.”_ Dean laughed, shaking his head. The need to assure Castiel that he was here, available and eager, was very hard to reign in, but he was sure that he didn’t have to say it for Castiel to know. Dean knew that no matter how many people he’d date or how much sex he’d have (eventually, maybe) there would always be Castiel. He just hoped that for Castiel it was somehow the same.

\--

As every year, Christmas proved to be very hectic, with a couple of pagan gods stirring up some minor trouble a few towns over. He missed most of his family holiday, celebrating Christmas with the elderly couple after assuring them there were other ways to get worshippers nowadays than turning them into submissive zombies through bewitched Christmas decoration. He was sore and tired and still had cinnamon powder all over his clothes by the time he got back home, just to find Castiel and Emma sitting in the shop.

“I assume you didn’t get my message?” Castiel asked, clapping Emma’s hands in tune to some song they had been singing together.

“No, sorry. I was just -” Dean muttered but then he groaned, wiping his face. “I’ll go shower. I’ll be more coherent then,” he promised, but came up to them to put a kiss on Emma’s cheek, breathing in Castiel’s still familiar, enticing scent. He clapped Castiel on the shoulder, then he dragged himself upstairs.

He didn’t feel much better when he was done, but Castiel had spared him the trouble of coming back down.

“I was celebrating Christmas with my family in Topeka. I thought that maybe we could make Emma’s first birthday some sort of private affair,” Castiel said. “I should have contacted you earlier. I’m sorry,” Castiel apologized, then he put a little box on the coffee table. Dean sat down on the couch, leaning his head back. “I’ll give you a massage later on if you want.”

“That’d be awesome,” Dean muttered, then he sat back up. “I’ve already sent her present to Colorado.”

“Don’t worry. It’s not like she understands the concept yet,” Castiel told him, setting Emma down between them. She put her hands on Dean’s legs, pulling herself up on her feet, leaning heavily on Dean.

“Hey baby, do you want to give daddy a kiss?” Emma giggled, but she seemed to understand him well enough, first pointing at Dean, before she leant in to press her lips against his cheeks. Castiel got up from the couch to rummage a bit in Dean’s kitchen. He came back with some matches. He opened the box, revealing a small cake with a single candle on it.

“It’s mostly for show, since she only eats baby food next to my milk,” Castiel explained, lighting the small candle under Emma’s watchful eyes. She squeaked in delight and Dean had to hold her back.

“I’m not complaining,” Dean assured him and Castiel smiled. “Hey, Emma look. It’s your birthday!” Dean started singing happy birthday, Castiel joining in after a beat. Emma was delighted, but Castiel didn’t trust her around the fire, so he had Dean blow out the candle for her. “It’s a little bit surreal to celebrate my daughter’s birthday. Well, not quite as surreal as watching her being born though.”

“Yes, I know… For me it’s odd too. A couple of years ago I wouldn’t have thought it to ever happen. I’m happy I have her,” Castiel said pulling out a jar of baby food, while Dean cut the cake for them.

“Me too… Even if I don’t see her often, she still means a lot to me.” Castiel stopped what he was doing, but then he slowly raised his head, looking up at Dean with an apologetic expression.

“I know she does… I’m sorry that you see her so rarely. It’s a long journey and Emma’s still kicking up a fuss every time we’re going through the airport.” Dean nodded in understanding.

“I’m happy that I get to see her at all,” Dean assured him, pulling Emma down into his lap, so he could try to feed her.

By the end of the day Dean had a picture of him and Emma totally covered in baby food attached to the fridge.

\--

Spring term 2010 saw Professor Novak back at university, much to the joy of some of his older students. He had spent his year off writing articles whenever he had the time and they’d brought him enough new acclaim that he was particularly sought after to attend conferences now that he had returned. It was constant activity which separated him from his home and Emma.

Dean knew thatvaguely keeping up with what was happening in Castiel’s academic career via Charlie. She currently was almost the only link Dean had to what Castiel and Emma were up to, since Castiel simply didn’t have the time to update his blog more than once every two weeks. He knew that Emma spent a lot of time with Jimmy’s family much to the joy of Castiel’s niece. But he really wished that Castiel would at least call him more than once a month.

Dean was of course busy himself, seeing as he was the only person in all of America that took care of monster concerns. He sent Sam to do most things that required him boarding a plane, but that didn’t mean that he could just hang around in his office or the shop and be lazy.

He continued writing little notes for Emma, sending them off at the end of every month, together with a new toy, or a book, or some clothes. The last thing he had sent her was an old teddy his mom has found in the attic. It was 30 years old and it was worn, but it was soft and pretty to look at. Castiel sent him back a picture of Emma wrapping all of her limbs around it, sleeping soundly.

Emma grew and grew and Dean couldn’t help but ache. That he only saw her about 4 times a year, was like a wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding and the less time Castiel had for Dean, the more desperate he seemed to get.

Spring turned to summer, summer changed into autumn and soon the trees were bare again, the wind chilly and another year had passed Dean by.

He shouldn’t really complain, since he was doing well. His job was fantastic, he had enough money to actually pay Sam for all the work he did for their business and his circle of friends seemed to grow every day.

He even had reconnected with Lisa and Ben, spending a weekend with them. He wasn’t even jealous when he got introduced to Lisa’s new partner and simply enjoyed their time together.

As far as sex was concerned he did try once or twice, but apart from the momentary release the press of another soft body against him brought him, it hadn’t really felt all that good afterwards. He didn’t know how Castiel was doing, but Dean thought that might be for the best. Talking about sex with him was a charged topic that got Dean hot and frustrated very quickly.

So he shouldn’t complain, he really shouldn’t. But he felt empty and alone, a mere distant spectator of Emma and Castiel’s lives unfolding hours away from his, brushing only so briefly.

He was therefore quite surprised to receive an invitation in his mail just a few days before Christmas. It was a beautiful white card with golden lettering on the front and neat handwriting inside. Colorful swirls and thick lines drawn by what he assumed to be Emma’s hand made some of the writing hard to read, but Dean could still decipher it.

“Dear Dean.

I would like to invite you to my house in Topeka, to celebrate the holidays with us. My family will be present and I if you agree, I would like to introduce you to them. In case you’re uncomfortable coming alone, you’re welcome to bring someone with you.

Castiel and Emma

P.S. Emma likes the new colors you sent her”

Laughter bubbled out of Dean and he felt like an immense weight was lifted off his shoulders. Castiel was introducing him to his family. Finally, he was being acknowledged as Emma’s father. He chose to push all the anxiety about meeting Castiel’s family to the side. He had to pester his mother to go shopping with him. He did have to make an impression after all.

\--

Just from the outside Castiel’s house was massive. Like his house in Colorado it was built of sturdy brick, meant to last years and many generations. It’s within the city itself, but some way off, surrounded by gardens and hedges and further away a small forest. The rooms were lit up, but apart from very small, glittering lights attached to the leafless trees there was no holiday decoration. Dean got out of his car and readjusted his tie while he walked up the steps to the door. He took a deep breath, exhaling loudly, before he rang the doorbell. It took a while for the door to be open, but it was Castiel who looked up at him, his face slightly flushed, his hair long and tousled. He was absolutely stunning, as always, and when Castiel pulled him into a hug, Dean was almost too stunned to return it.

“I’m glad you came,” Castiel said, his lips brushing Dean’s earlobe before he pulled back. Castiel closed the door and took Dean’s coat, putting it into a cupboard where lots of other coats were visible. Even the entrance hall looked impressive, even though it seemed like only the wooden floor, the dark staircase and the doors were left in their original state, everything else was white and new. Dean led Castiel into the living room, where a dozen people were hanging around, chatting and enjoying some snacks before dinner. There was a Christmas tree, tall and bright green, very little of it actually covered by decoration.

“Hey, Emma, look who’s here,” Castiel called and Dean spotted the girl bouncing on the sofa, next to a young girl he didn’t know. Castiel’s voice got more than just Emma’s attention, but when Emma’s face lit up Dean couldn’t help the wide grin spreading on his face, tuning out the others.

“Daddy!” she called and Dean bit his lips, still grinning. The almost two year old got down from the couch with the help of the blonde girl, but when Dean knelt down she crossed the distance all on her own, rather secure already on her little feet. Dean scooped her up, pressing her close to his face to kiss her.

“I’m actually quite surprised that she recognizes me so well,” Dean told Castiel, but his grin slipped slightly when he saw how Castiel was fidgeting again. “Hey, Cas.” He finally noticed that the noise had died down and he found the other guests looking at him curiously. Not all of them of course, he could see Gabriel and Jimmy smiling at him, but most of the others were people he hadn’t seen before. “Hello,” he greeted.

“This is Dean Winchester, Emma’s father,” Castiel said, finally regaining his voice. People started talking again and Castiel took this moment to introduce Dean to everybody. The blonde girl – Claire –took Emma again, so that he could move around more freely. Everyone was nice enough, though Michael – Castiel’s older brother – did study him sharply before shaking his hand.

“You don’t plan on marrying Castiel?” he asked, which made Castiel pinch his upper arm, leading Dean away before he could formulate an answer. But Dean was pretty sure that Michael understood the “I would” in the look he shot him. At least Michael nodded at him, before he turned away to talk to Claire.

Naomi and her husband Crowley seemed civil enough, just as the aunts, uncles and cousins did. He even got to meet Castiel’s parents, who both had long grey hair, spoke French with Castiel and embraced Dean.

“Maybe you’re not married to him, but you gave him something precious. We have you to thank for his happiness,” Castiel’s mother said gently when Dean helped her carry the food to the table. “And Ezra told me you were there for the birth.”

“I was and I doubt I’m ever going to forget it,” Dean said with a smile, “Emma was so tiny,” he added.

“They’re growing so fast, don’t they?” she said wistfully, looking over at her two granddaughters.

“Yes… They do…” Castiel took that moment to reappear, pulling Dean away from his mother with some excuse or another.

“I hope it’s not too much… Gabriel accused me of showing you off,” he said and Dean had to laugh. “I’m sorry that I didn’t do this sooner. I was just too nervous about their reactions.”

“It’s okay… I’m just glad that I got to see you and Emma,” Dean assured him, reaching out to ruffle Castiel’s hair. “Especially you… You look wonderful today,” Dean added, much lower, the words only meant for Castiel’s ears. Castiel looked up at him, his eyes wide and a blush on his face. But he was spared from giving an answer by Emma calling for him, her voice loud enough to reach them in the kitchen.

“Oh, I think we’re ready to eat,” Castiel said, brushing his hand over Dean’s.  His mouth pulled into a shy smile. “You look great too.”

Dean’s smile stayed on his face for the rest of the evening and not even Gabriel’s rude remarks and the nosiness of some Novaks could put him off.

\--

Dean ended up spending Christmas, Emma’s birthday and New Year with Castiel and Emma, though they relocated the New Year celebrations to The Apothecary. Emma slept through most of it, only jerking away to marvel at some fireworks, but she quickly burrowed into the blanket Castiel wore around his shoulders as they looked up at the sky.

“Any resolutions for this year?” Dean wondered, gently giving the swing Castiel sat on a shove. Castiel turned his head slightly, looking up at Dean. He was smiling, but shook his head. “Well, I certainly do.” Castiel looked up at him quizzically. “It’s a secret though.” Castiel pouted, but didn’t press Dean for an answer, gently brushing his hand over Emma’s face. The girl had fallen back asleep, her nose squished against Castiel’s chest.

“I hope I’ll visit more often this year. It was difficult juggling work and raising Emma and I feel it’s not going to get any easier… I hope I’ll manage to be a good mother for her,” Castiel finally said, his voice almost drowned out by the explosions.

“You’re perfect, Cas. Don’t let anybody tell you anything different,” Dean assured him, readjusting the knitted hat Castiel was wearing, so it properly covered Castiel’s ears. He hummed silently, but then he looked up at Dean with a soft smile.

“If you’re free I’ll visit on your birthday. I’ve got to oversee some work being done in the attic.” Dean nodded immediately, latching on to any chance to see more of Castiel. “Should we go in? I think Emma’s getting cold.”

“Yes, sure. Let me just put her upstairs in her bed. Get some hot chocolate,” Dean said, taking Emma from Castiel’s arms. Their fingers brushed, but Castiel lingered instead of pulling right away. He shuffled away after a moment, the snow crunching under his feet. Dean kissed Emma’s cheek, earning himself a soft grumble.

“Maybe I still have a chance with your mommy,” Dean whispered and carried Emma inside.

\--

Night was falling quickly on an already grey and cloudy day. It was cold and the ground was hard and frozen, the patch of grass Dean crossed from the parking space to Castiel’s door crunched under his feet. There was no snow, but in some of the shadowed corners there were still sad, dirty heaps of it. Dean kind of wished that the weather was better, so he could take Emma out to play a bit. She looked absolutely adorable wrapped in the bulky little ski suit Castiel’s parents had given her.

Dean rubbed his hands, then he rang the doorbell. Instead of the door a window overhead opened.

“Dean?” He took a step back, to be able to see beyond the roof covering the front porch. Castiel was looking out of the window, a hairdryer in hand. “You’re early!”

“Couldn’t wait to see you,” Dean replied with a grin. Castiel chuckled, then he pulled his head back in after shuddering at the cold.

“The door’s open,” Dean heard before the window was shut again. He turned the door-knob, pushing it. It was warm and nice smelling in the entrance hall and he was eager to get out of the cold. He closed the door, got out of his shoes and threw his jacket over the hallstand where also Castiel’s trench coat was. He looked around but he didn’t see tiny shoes or the black and yellow stripped winter jacket.

“So Emma isn’t here?” Dean called, unsure what to do, but not willing to hang around in the hall either. He climbed the stairs carefully, the wood creaking under his feet. It was warm too upstairs, but there was the scent of fresh paint and lacquer in the air. The house was big and the spacious landing led Dean either into a corridor or to two doors. He heard Castiel humming though and soon afterwards he stepped out of an open door towards the end of the corridor.

“Hello, Dean,” he greeted, a big smile on his face. “No, the cold she had wasn’t better today, so I thought it best not to make her fly with me.”

“That’s okay,” Dean said, waiting for Castiel to join him. They hugged and Dean relished the feeling of Cas – warm, soft and fragrant. He had a hard time letting go again, his hands lingering in the small of Castiel’s back, until he squirmed out of it to walk past Dean.

“It still smells in here, but I’m glad the upper floor and the attic have been taken care of. I should be able to start re-furnishing the rooms.”

“What are you going to do with this house anyway? It’s huge and you don’t even use it apart from Christmas,” Dean wondered, following Castiel down. He was a bit confused when Castiel put on his shoes. Dean grabbed Castiel’s winter coat off the rack and helped him into it.

“It’s been ours for decades, so I won’t sell it, but I thought about renting it out. Like some sort of holiday retreat,” Castiel told him.

“Right. Where are we going, Cas?” Dean wondered, shrugging into his coat.

“Since Emma’s not here I booked us a table. Michael recommended the restaurant, so I expect it to be somewhat… ritzy.” Dean chuckled when he saw the face Castiel was making.

“You’re not wearing a dress today, usually you do when we go out on dates,” Dean observed, guiding Castiel to his car. He opened the door for him and Castiel smiled before he went to sit into the Impala.

“Yes, I know, but the only dress I have with me is relatively short and it’s a bit too chilly for my tastes. Besides, the slacks are new. Apparently Armani if Gabriel is to be trusted. I always wear presents. Even if they are pretentious.” Dean nodded, humming silently. He pulled on the gloves his mother had given him for his birthday.

“Well, I’m glad I’m wearing a suit then. I just did because I know Emma likes to pull on my ties and suspenders,” Dean said with a grin, winking at Castiel.

“You look good, as always,” Castiel assured him and Dean shifted around in his seat a little bit at the praise.

They spent the short drive talking about Emma and how she kept on learning new words, some of which Castiel wasn’t all that fond of seeing as she had picked them up from Gabriel. The restaurant was, as Castiel had predicted rather luxurious and Dean was surprised that Castiel had managed to book them a table.

He helped Castiel out of his jacket and pulled the chair out for him. He wasn’t sure if he should consider it a victory that Castiel let him do it for him. Without Emma there for Dean and Castiel to focus on, their entire attention was on each other. It made Dean feel tense and judging by how there always was a blush on Castiel’s face and how he rubbed his fingers nervously, Castiel probably felt the same. The air was charged and the soft music and the candle on their table didn’t quite help to defuse the situation. It was, Dean was jittery to admit, all quite romantic. Like their first proper date.

Once they had been served their drinks, Castiel lifted his glass towards Dean.

“Happy birthday, Dean,” he said gently and they chinked glasses. “May this year be good for you.”

“Thank you, Cas. I’m sure it will,” Dean said confidently, looking into Castiel’s eyes. That’s how most of their meal went afterwards. They didn’t talk much, happy to eat and steal glances at each other over the rim of their glasses.

“Next time I’ll pay for us both,” Dean assured him, once they were out in the cold again. The crisp night air was delightfully fresh after their lavish meal and Dean pulled Castiel a bit closer, wrapping his arms around his shoulder for warmth. Castiel came easily, pressing himself to Dean’s side.

“Or you could just cook dinner for me. Your burgers are nice,” Castiel said, getting into Dean’s car. Dean laughed, darting looks over at Castiel, who was now checking his phone, writing texts. “Emma’s sleeping. Charlie’s watching her today and she keeps me updated. She stopped coughing, so I think she’ll be fine.”

“It’s kind of odd to not have her around. She was always here when we met,” Dean admitted. He quickly looked to the side, finding Cas studying him. “I mean that’s not a bad thing, right?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel confessed eventually and they drove the rest of the way in silence, Dean biting his lips because there were so many things he felt he should say, but nothing seemed right.

He was glad when they were back in the house, though he felt that sitting down in front of the lit fireplace with warm chocolate didn’t really rid Dean of his desire to press close to Castiel and kiss him.

“This is… quite romantic,” Dean finally said, when he could no longer take the silence beyond the sound of the fire.

“Uhm,” was all Castiel said for a while and Dean thought he had probably overstepped their boundaries, even though he felt that every line just got blurrier and blurrier. “It is.” Dean put his empty mug on the table next to the couch they were sitting on and looked over his shoulder. Castiel was hitting his nails against the ceramic in quite a nervous rhythm.

“Accidentally?” Dean dared to ask, slowly turning, reaching out his hand to pull the mug out of Castiel’s fingers. Without it there was nothing else for Castiel to focus on.

“I don’t think so,” he confessed.

“Okay,” Dean said. His heart was hammering in his chest, but he knew that he had to do it now. He shifted closer to Castiel until their thighs were touching and slowly reached up to cup Castiel’s face in his palms. There was no resistance at all and Castiel gripped the front of Dean’s shirt the second their lips touched, pulling him closer, making the kiss less gentle and tentative. Dean couldn’t help laughing into the kiss, pressing Castiel down into the couch, feeling his arms wrap around his neck to pull him in and not let him go.

Dean let his hands travel from Castiel’s face to his hair, pulling slightly until the tie came off, then he buried his fingers into it. Castiel sighed against his mouth and Dean’s hands glided down his front,  pressing against his chest, then gripping his waist, before he took hold of Castiel’s legs, spreading them and slipping between them.

To move against each other this way was natural. Everything that had felt broken, wrong and distant between them melted away.

Until Castiel turned his head to the side and a high pitched whine passed his lips. Dean stopped immediately at the wounded sound, sitting up and gently rubbing Castiel’s sides. Castiel had his head still turned away, but he looked up at Dean from the corner of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have done that,” Castiel breathed and Dean felt like he had just been splashed with ice water. He immediately let go of Castiel, but he didn’t move away from the space between his legs.

“Why?” Dean asked and his question echoed in the room - loud, hurt and accusatory. “I thought you wanted it now! I didn’t do anything, Cas, God knows I wanted to for years! I was sure that now we were moving into the right direction!”

“Yes!” Castiel shouted, pushing himself up and pressing himself against the armrest of the couch. Not out of reach, but a lot further away than before. “Yes I can see that we were going there but I can’t just… I shouldn’t just have given in without thinking!”

“You don’t need to think about everything, Cas!” Dean argued but Castiel just shook his head. “Look, Cas I know you feel something, okay? And I want you. Cas, I love you and that’s not going to change!”

“You don’t know that,” Castiel replied and he took a deep breath. “We only see each other a couple of times a year. What if you’re just in love with the idea you fabricated about me? What if you’re only in love with me in the easy moments, when I’m being a good mother to Emma? When I’m not struggling, when I’m not irritated or moody? What about the times you don’t see?”

“Cas, you once told me you liked everything about me,” Dean tried to reason with him, putting his palm on Castiel’s leg. He didn’t jerk back but he let out a shuddering breath, signaling Dean that he did have to be very careful. “Even the thing you didn’t know about me.”

“I know I said that and it’s still true,” Castiel answered.

“Good and it’s the same for me. I know that we can’t be sure of what will happen, but we just have to try.”

“I don’t want to try,” Castiel said after a long moment of silence. He looked up at Dean, who just stared back. “I can’t afford to try. I can’t give Emma her father and then fail eventually when we don’t work out. It’s not worth it.”

“Not worth it?” Dean repeated, the words feeling terrible and sour on his tongue. Castiel averted his eyes and Dean continued to stare. He didn’t know what to say, but he certainly knew what to do. “Fine.” He spat, getting up. “You’re a spineless son of a bitch.”

“Dean-“ Castiel started to argue, but Dean lifted his hand, shutting him up.

“Not worth it, Cas. Do you even hear what you’re saying? If you think that everything we could have as a family, the good and the bad things, aren’t worth the work we need to put into us, then I have nothing more to say to you.” Castiel didn’t say anything, so Dean left the living room, grabbed his things and left, never looking back.

He was too angry and disappointed to shed tears, he was too frustrated to feel lost. He grabbed his phone and dialed his Dad.

“I need a hunt,” he said. John didn’t ask any questions, he didn’t ask him if he was okay either, because it was a pointless question.

“Don’t do this, Dean. Don’t lose your head. You’re a father,” John warned him, but Dean only rewarded him with icy silence. “I’ve got a case close to Lawrence. Simple salt and burn. Once you cooled your head you go back home, you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Dean lied.

He did what he was good at; running away, digging into the cold, frozen ground and watching the fire consume corrupted bones. But the heat and the wail of the ghost dissolving weren’t able to make him feel less rotten.

\--

Fresh tulips, red and yellow flowers on vibrant green stems, were growing in a little pot on Castiel’s desk, still in view of the camera. This last message in the diary was a video. I was uncommented, which wasn’t usually Castiel’s style. Emma was nowhere in sight and Castiel was silent a good while into the video. His eyes were cast down, his lips slightly pursed. The tulips were swaying slightly, the only indicator that it wasn’t just a picture.

“The new semester has started again. I think I am managing. Better now than before at least,” Castiel finally said, raising his eyes. There was something quietly sad in them and he wasn’t smiling or gesticulating in irritation or embarrassment like he normally did depending on the context of the video. “I can focus on my career and also do my very best in raising my child. I feel like I have proven something to my family and I have – maybe more importantly – proven something to myself.” He sighed, the slow exhale of air, silent and only visible in the slumping of Castiel’s shoulders. He averted his eyes quickly, before he looked back down. Not straight into the camera. “But I’m not even sure what. I’m not longer sure why I did anything.” He raised his head, looking at the camera now. “This is likely to be the last entry of my diary. I have shared my path with you, because I felt it was important. I showed you that you are free to do with your body as you please. If you are a man, but have the body to be able to bear children, then it is your choice alone to decide if you want to do it. Even if you are a woman who could have children, it’s not your task to do it. I haven’t let the pressure society puts on us determine my actions. I realized that this idea was forced upon me because society at large didn’t know what to do with us people; people who couldn’t be put on either one or the other side of a preferably straight and uncrossable line. If I had the body of a woman even though I was a man – at least sometimes – then I should do the people around me a favor and just be a woman. A wife. A mother. Easy to grasp and easy to shelf away. Some of us did, the few there are of us. And some of us will do so even in the future now that your and my children will no longer be forced to undergo an operation to make us “easy”. I didn’t. I felt that I could do the most if I spoke up and didn’t try to conform. People didn’t like it.” Castiel smiled to himself and he did seem slightly apologetic for a moment. “And my family probably was frustrated with me because I kept on saying the same things over and over: this is my choice and you can bite me if you think you have any power over my decision.” Castiel folded his hands, scratching the nail of his index finger over his left ring finger. “But one day, years later, I woke up and realized that I wanted something. I wanted a child. The revelation was staggering and scary at first, but I knew what I wanted. But things went wrong along the way and now I’m… I don’t know anymore why I tried so hard to resist. I know I can raise a child alone. I know that my child doesn’t suffer because she only has her mother.” Castiel tilted his head slightly, squinting, but eventually he sniffed and looked back into the camera. “I don’t need a husband. Emma doesn’t need a father. I proved that. I know I can do it and I can only stress how proud I am that I made my own decisions. But… I want. And for so long that was the issue. I couldn’t differentiate between needing something and wanting. I thought I had learnt something when my marriage failed. I thought I had learnt the difference between need and want that first time around. But I was wrong.” Castiel reached out to switch off the camera, but then he stopped and cleared his throat. “It’s not a weakness to want something. And I hope that my realization that yes, yes I do love you, isn’t too late.” Castiel smiled, then he nodded and the video was over.

Dean didn’t see that video, not for quite a while. Even 3 months of restless hunting didn’t change the fact that he had spent years working in an office. He made mistakes that not even his instincts could quite cover up and if it hadn’t been for demonic assistance and a whole load of dumb luck, he would have ended up as a Wendigo snack. His leg was broken, his shoulder hurt, but when he opened his eyes to the bright whiteness of a hospital room, there instantly was a weight bouncing on the mattress next to him.

“Daddy’s awake!” Dean turned his head around, finding Emma in a pink nurse costume and a pirate hat on top of her blonde curls, grinning up at him with her little baby teeth shining and her cheeks covered by faint freckles and a rosy blush.

“Emma…?” Dean asked, his voice hoarse from not having been used for a while. Emma crawled close to him, but stopped to point at his shoulder.

“Daddy’s shoulder hurts,” she said with a stern expression, careful not to touch him too much. She bent over him and kissed him on the forehead. “Kisses help”. Dean couldn’t help grinning, reaching out his free hand to ruffle her hair, making her squeak in protest when her hat fell off. She picked it back up, giving Dean a view of Castiel. He was sitting in an armchair, books piling up on the table next to what Dean assumed to be his meal. He had a pen in his hand to scribble in the margins, but now he was looking at him, smiling gently.

“Hello, Dean,” he said, causing Dean great confusion. Why was he here? Where was Dean anyway? The last thing he remembered was Bela torching the Wendigo, but then nothing. “We’ll talk later. Just recover now,” Castiel promised him and Dean nodded. Emma curled up next to him and Dean went back to a much more peaceful sleep.

\--

Fortunately, Dean’s injuries were not severe enough to keep him locked up in the hospital for long after he had woken up.

Castiel joined him on the sofa on the second day, when his boredom was getting the best of him and the TV could no longer entertain him.

“How are you?” Castiel asked and Dean grunted, but then he looked around.

“Where’s Emma?” he wondered, finding Castiel smiling shyly when his eyes finally came to rest on him. Dean had been more than a bit chilly with him, despite Castiel trying his best to take care of him, but he couldn’t just give him the cold shoulder when he looked like this.

“With your mother,” he said silently, “I think we need to talk.” Dean studied Castiel’s face, but refrained from saying anything. “I’m sorry.”

“Yes, of course,” Dean muttered, but Castiel reached out, placing his hand on Dean’s cheek, slowly turning his head back to face him.

“I want to try,” he said and Dean widened his eyes, before he frowned in confusion.

“Cas, no. Don’t do this to me, don’t just-“ he pleaded, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I’m not doing this because you’ve been hurt. It’s not a panicked reaction to get you to stop endangering yourself. Though I would prefer you didn’t to reckless things.” Dean snorted. “I decided before I even heard about your accident. I called you, but you didn’t pick up. I then called everyone I knew, but nobody could tell me just where you were. Until your friend, Bela, called me, telling me you were injured. So… It’s not because of that.”

“So what now…?” Dean asked, not being able to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“I’m sorry that I was so afraid. I’m sorry that I’ve said hurtful things. I do think you’re worth it.” Castiel slipped down form the couch, to crouch in front of Dean. He slipped his fingers into Dean’s palms. “I understand if you don’t want to anymore and if I hurt you too much. But, Dean…” He lowered his head, silent for a while. When he looked back up he pulled Dean’s hands to his face, kissing his knuckles. Dean almost jerked back, because he wanted this too much and he felt like an idiot to still have hope that things could turn out the way he wished.

“There has never been a man like you, who loved me so much to look past my flaws. There’s never been anyone tried to work hard for what we could have. And I really, really want you.” Castiel’s eyes were shining, tears clinging to his lashes but he wasn’t crying, not yet. But Dean wasn’t so sure about himself. His nose tickled and the back of his throat felt raw, but he kept silent and still. “I want you so much that I feel I could burst and I was an idiot to not tell you. I wanted you all along, but I didn’t understand that this didn’t make me weak. I just didn’t know.” Dean pulled one hand out of Castiel’s grasp to press his palm to Castiel’s face. He was warm, a bit too much, and he shivered under Dean’s touch.

“It’s okay,” he whispered and Castiel swallowed loudly. “It’s okay.” He pulled Castiel into an embrace, feeling him shake in his arms, his warm breath hitting his neck in little shuddering bursts. “Shh, sweetheart. It’s okay.”

“If you want to try,” Castiel managed to say, his voice muffled, so Dean eased up his hold on Cas, letting him put a bit of distance between them. Dean couldn’t help chuckling slightly at how disheveled Castiel looked. “I’ll move to Topeka. I’ll make it work with my job and my family. I don’t care. I just want to try if you let me.” Dean smiled, so much that his cheeks started hurting, but Castiel’s timid matching smile was worth it.

“Of course I want to try. You’ve always been right for me,” he said, drawing his fingers through Castiel’s hair, messing it up a bit more.

“Would you like to kiss me?” Castiel asked and Dean leant forwards.

“A bit,” he said, smiling against Castiel’s lips, before he heaved him up in his lap to kiss him again.

\--

Not everything worked smoothly right away. Moving to Topeka took longer and was more stressful than either Castiel or Dean had anticipated. With both of them nervous and into each other’s space all of the time, they ended up squabbling over the silliest things that Emma put the newly learned long-suffering eye roll to good use. Once they almost broke up because they were so annoyed at each other, but they made up after a night of shouting and slamming doors and staying out of each other’s hair. They went on a number of bad dates, but most of them were fantastic.

Mary or Sam or Benny were willing to watch Emma for a weekend so that they could spend time just with each other. They had sex a lot, because that was one thing they were really good at. That and enjoying each other in quiet hours and raising their daughter together. By Emma’s fourth birthday they were married and by her fifth they were well on their way to have a second child nobody had still been counting on but everyone had wanted.

Looking back over the past five years, Dean had no idea what he had expected when he wrote that one, careless email in reply to one of the oddest personal ads he had ever seen. Maybe a bit of fun, maybe a bit of sex, certainly money and no strings attached and no emotions and no responsibility beyond a hand shake after a job well done.

Not a husband, not a lovely daughter, not a second child. Not a family. But this is what he got. And he was more than just a little bit happy about that.

 

**The End.**

****


End file.
